Sensual Rain

Sensual Rain

The rain falls softly,
yet hot and biting
from the heat of the day
and the bite of the night.

It’s so hot that it strikes my skin
like a hot poker.
The sensuality will follow,
but not now, not now.

For now it brands me
with the sting of a lover.
It burns and smokes
like a shooting star.

I suppose some find that sensual.
I, for one, do.
It comes on like
a drummer’s delight.

It is searing,
beating a path
with exquisite pain.
There is nothing like it…

Sensual Rain

~The Tennessee Poet~
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