Sweet Bitter Rain
by Olivia M. McGuire
The rapid rain beats outside my window,
no sound of television or music
just rain, sweet bitter rain.
I'm alone with my book in bed
not warm enough in my pajamas with no lover
to hold me, to kiss me, to make me feel...
Instead my lover is inside the pages of my book.
He's a warrior, a man, yet a boy in so many ways.
His eyes are the color of sky on a clear day,
and his face--oh his face--so beautiful
even the angels envy.
A body strong, slender, and tall
meant for speed, meant for battle, and love making.
He makes me smile, blush, yearn...this lover of mine.
I love it when he tells me it's always been me,
that there is no other.
And I love the way he caresses my face
and surprises me with gifts and tenderness.
My lover, my lover
in between the pages of the binder
how he makes me cry,
because he's not really here.
No one is here,
except me and the sound of sweet bitter rain.