Unwritten On

I watched the rain
dropping down on leaves,
cleansed from dirt,
coated with sheer varnish,
and I wished my sorrows
could be as easily washed away.

I held soap in my hands,
and wondered how many
scrubs I still need
to feel unwritten on,
without the stains of memories.

So I went for walks whenever it rained,
to purge my body and soul,
and laved over and over
to undo what had been done.