An Ode to be Quenched
Parched for eternity, my suffering only finds absolution when that first drop ignites and quenches my longing.
That first drop . . . when you’ve walked the scorching sands under the Saharan sun Oh, how it sizzles away on your skin like the touch of a love, divine teasing you with a gentle tap all before the rain becomes a caress of longing. And that very drop . . . when you’ve parched your throat dry under the solitary sun Oh, how it burns away into fireflies like the kiss of a love, divine teasing you with her lips all before the rain quenches the thirst of a lifetime. It’s that very drop . . . that I found in you. Let it rain, for I’m ready for your petrichor Let it flood, for I’m ready for your love. And let it sizzle, oh let it burn . . . my thirst is ready to drown in you.
