I saw a young couple argue over who gets the umbrella.
She said she loved him but she hates how he gets so jealous
As if the rain shouldn’t touch her skin like they were droplets of lust, lost love and sin.
Each drop escalated the argument
They argued as he stepped in a puddle.
She whispered something under her breath
and he sharply told her not to mumble.
He took the umbrella to spite his lover.
And they walked into the darkness, cold, wet, and clinging to one another.
When it rains does the sidewalk feel pain?
And if so why does it never complain.
And if so why does the rain never explain themselves either.
Who told the rain it was only good for putting out fires?
The rain is an asshole to the submissive sidewalk
But she’ll never leave him
Because people get caught in the rain on every street, on every corner of every block.