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Rain is a Perfect Cup of Tea

Rain is a perfect cup of tea when you are inside a brewing storm

Where your tears blend with its drops; its falls in cadence of your hiccoughs

Indeed, heart is a fiber of muscle though strong yet a sponge

Emptying all of the content of Pandora’s Box but hope

Though hands instigate but the heart sucks – till becomes heavy

Like when the sun dries the ocean while continuously pulls by tide

To kiss the shore time and again; while the golden rays shine to form

A heat-bonded palace; the moon with its silvery ripples wash the shore

Exterminating the tension leaving behind a hot breeze that blows your world

Though harmless at first sight making you florid at first touch

But when traversed the nexus and acme of a growing blues

It will erupt silent but violent – like a laser – in guise of concentrated air

That can splash blood in your faces; while some can but mostly have phobias

Then blood diluted in a flask of scenes is a water that wells up from your eyes

Running to your cheeks, stopping in your lips – then you run your tongue

To the vanguard of your lexicon and taste it: - it’s salty

The liquid then vanishes naked to the atmosphere turning a vapor

Until it is converge to a clouds – white moving clouds – until it gathers many more

Like a cotton that can be dipped in a bottle of ink; and you get it slowly out from that space

Until you heard a splatter: a shower of dark droplets; while its tinge stains my hand -

Heart is near empty, when the showers of heaven come it will settle down becomes a fog

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