I can’t touch the curve of a rainbow
or use its’ colors to paint
or count the rain until it stops
Don’t be silly
But my heart is a foolish thing sometimes
and it thinks: “All you have to do is try.
The first thing you must do is reach.”
I felt the tender hues of your curves
as I tossed my umbrella aside,
counting all the rain I could, without fear
With wet reflections all around us
awash in swirling, bouncing colors
we began painting from this palette
so many stories without end