Broken escalators are still stairs
This is a small piece of pure spontaneity. There’s no rhyme, no alliteration. It’s just a couple of verses that came out when I was chilling at the balcony, watching the rain. Things like this resonate with me more than the poems with rhymes and refrains. What about you?
It’s raining outside. In phases.
Fast? Slow? It’s a rhythm I can’t tap to.
It smells nice. Like gentle familiar novelty.
Smell with my eyes. I smell colour.
Like colour on a fresh painting.
It’s preaching into the air.
It sounds like love.
If there is silence in between, that’s all I feel.
My arms are feeling the drops that I only see.
I’m under construction, a puzzle.
Oh, Lord, your creation is in awe of itself.
Hope you enjoyed this. Thank you so much for reading and have a blast just existing!