turning you up

i am rain on a winter morning:
a little chilly under the gray,
a little warm
settling comfortably on your nose,
your bright hood,
finding my way into the little creases of your coat
and sliding off to sink into your shoes as you walk,
hands upturned to catch me
tongue out to taste me
skiing down the slopes of your cheeks
to sit on your shoulder as you stop, eyes closed,
to take me in

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