It feels like falling through rain,

the pelts of raindrops thudding against your skin,

your uplifted face welcoming tiny splices of pain,

the water trickling down your sweet onyx face

onto your expanse of dark chocolate neck,

the sweetness of the curve-length

diluted into strands of remorseful hurt,

hurtling further down onto your bronzed shoulders,

your collarbone shrieking in disbelief

at the ice drops nestling hard in its narrow cocoon.

Your chest heaves silently then loudly

thuds through the droplets,

it feels like falling through rain,

your cries swallowed up by the ice-grey precipitation

and your thumping heart pushing against the nestling ice drops

that press back against it, turning thumps into popsicles of pain,

your arms are noodles, the color of bwe bhulo,

with the strength of a newborn child,

your cries for salvation and deliverance

swallowed whole by the leviathan of love,

the noodle-arms flap in time to the beat of the rain

tap tapping against the expanse of your stygian back.

Once sinewy and strong, your back is now twisted,

pushed further into a soft curve of even softer curves

that splinter with the thumps and tap tapping of

what feels like rain

through which you are falling.

You can’t feel your legs,

the rage of rain wraps itself around the once-golden limbs,

choking the yellowness out of your life,

the raindrops dimming the rainbows from your thighs

right down to your toes,

It feels like falling through rain,

the pain hits each part of you

and as you fall faster and faster through this nameless fissure,

narrow, unforgiving, untelling,

the pain swallows you whole,

burning you up from your toes to your head

and, as you fade into brilliantly white nothingness,

it feels like falling through rain.