pirates of the porcelain sea

drip, drop,
drip,
says the pitter-patter of
the rain
as it trickles incessantly,
from atop the roof
onto
the gravel below.
drip, drop,
drip,
says the perpetual rhythm of
such serene surroundings,
making way for a certain calmness
to take the place of the roar
billowing from our
savage hearts,
as it
allows a
more mellow melody,
to take hold,
to take captivity of
our souls.
here i stand,
skimming, caressing
every line
and crease
from the palm of your hand.
basking
in the sweet smell
of your essence
as well as
the cigarettes on your breath.
we immerse ourselves in this
mutual admiration.
revelling in this
amass of emotion,
while painting the sky
with a cheap bottle of whiskey.
i promise you that
one day, we'll dance together
on the highest point
of a mountain top.
flowing fluidly,
freely,
to this drip drop drip,
amongst the tip toe tip
of our own feet.
and until that day rains down upon us,
i'll lie outside,
below your window pane.
i'll spend the night
restlessly
rustling the grass.
so long as it
places me closer
to your
sleeping heart.