the rain is broken,

it

drips

in

frigid

pulp

and

liquid

instantly

immortalizes.

as beautiful as the first time

we‘ve spent

several hours

of several days

flying kites,

and searching for

the Balance

in the wind

besides that

we drank plum wine

on the coastline

and talked 

science.

we waited for the night

to fall

and when it fell

it was as beautiful

as

the first time.

now,

we pretend to be

happy.

and there‘s nothing worse.