Your eyes are as always, the only inherent solace in a distorted affair -- with rains designed to ensnare our bleached bodies into one, so we could dry with hastiness while the reverence was razed then gone; vaporized into the heavenly haziness, now I remain fickled with affection and fixate my manic candied vision onto the riddle of a constellation, to seek your gaze in the wind's white motion...
Rainmaker
Nigel Paolo Grageda
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