Rain is a pendulum wave here. You can predict where they’re going to land next; counting fourths, fifths, halves, whole notes, rests, on the roof of your room.
I’ve heard you live somewhere where rain is not rhythmic at all. Where it crashes down and sometimes softly – you cannot predict when it will be heavy, light, and heavy again, and the lightning and thunder do not care where they will land. How can so much chaos be so soothing? How do you live peacefully when you don’t know when the next flash of white-hot light will explode through the window?
About the Creator
Ariana GonBon
29yo bi Xicana. There's always more to write about, in more interesting ways than white men.
Instagram: @arte.con.ariana
For more stories unapproved by Vocal: colochosdeflores.wordpress.com
For entertaining tidbits: xismosaxit.com
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Allergies
I used to decorate my apartment with dahlias, chrysanthemums, daisies, carnations, roses, Queen Victorias, sunflowers, and lavender. He is allergic to flowers. He came into my life and he is not his allergies. He moved in with me, and he colored in the places that could not be filled by dying plants in old vases. He made me origami ones, let me paint the walls whatever crazy colors, and got me mugs with all different kinds on them.
By Ariana GonBon8 months ago in Poets
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