It Once Rained Upon Me

I lived in the rain. ages ago, I ran naked in it...It never relented, and neither did I. It pounded into my skin, whipped into my hair, and stung my face. My nipples always hardened as the drops smacked down...I slept in caverns embraced and caressed by wolves, their downy fur cinched around me till dream land pulled away for another foray into the storm. Passages never weighed much - no need when the lands spewed alive, and conceptualized eclipses held no meaning...

I know he was with me too. Who he is now, what he is, no clues remain as to his appearance, essence, or mannerisms, but I know he was there. I know I did not drink in the rain alone, did not canvas and journey the landscape unaccompanied. The Earth and I shared blood...shed blood...we fed off of each other in a time unconstrained. There was snow that tickled sleet and hail that taught and tested resilience.

Never sun though. Warmth in a light that defined black, washed in a milk bath cream surfacing just enough to destabilize pitch totality. It was the time when everything had a pulse for the taking, eager to threaten and tempt and eliminate and capture, a jumble of pro-active intensity.

I knew then that I was happy. Fulfilled. Confident and insatiable in the bareness of the world. We fucked in the mud and gnawed on our meals atop stones uncarved by human branding.