rain.

i want to get drenched in the rain not guarded, just one thin piece of cloth between me and the sky’s tears. i want open my hair in that rain. and lost every clips. i want every drop to kiss my skin, and reaches to my veins ,to trace the outline of my being, to seep into me until it touches the parts no one ever sees  to roam beneath the surface and stir my soul. i want to run through the rain with wild abandon, laughing as each cold droplet stings and soothes. i want to feel the street beneath my bare feet, slippery and real, as the sky collapses in silver sheets around me. i dont care about mud as it washes away with rain.iwant to lie down  yes, right there on the wet road  to look up and see each raindrop fall like tiny crystal, pure and unfiltered. i’ve always imagined that scene between Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet in the rain how they argued,  the tension, the unspoken truths breaking loose in a downpour. i crave that kind of argument: raw, passionate, unresolved  the kind that only rain can hold.how  both of them stopped each other from kissing.and when the storm is done ,when the clouds drift away like forgotten fears. i want to sit, soaked and shivering, with someone who gets it. tea in our hands, steam rising between damp fingers. we had  laugh between sips, teeth chattering and eyes gleaming. maybe we’d say nothing at all. maybe love doesn’t need a script. maybe in that silence, in our dripping clothes.i don’t want shelter from the rain.i want to be the storm.i want to feel alive  recklessly, foolishly, completely without being judged.