by Turnice

To our surroundings
We must
Have each other

As rain begins to fall
Our clothes
Magically disappear

Strong hands
Raise me up
My legs
Wrap around you

The grass
Becomes our bed
Bodies so slick 
From wetness 
Not only produced
By the rain 

With sounds in the background
Of thunder roaring 
The storm
We are creating
Rivals the one
Surrounding us

Rapture by Turnice

© Copyright 2008. All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be duplicated or copied without the expressed written consent of the author.

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