| The air hangs still and dense, 
      its doldrums a reflection of my spirit.
    This weather would find relief 
      in a fresh rainfall, but I refuse to cry. Renewal will come in due time, 
      to the inner landscapes of my heart.
    Your laughter is a deluge of joy 
      I await.
    Until you return to this land, 
      I will survive the drought.
     But on that day, we will dance 
      in the rain.
    You will soak me through. 
      I will rejoice.Like wine, it will intoxicate me. I will drink your beauty. But no hangover; 
      I will awake, rejuvenated.
     Your rain, in its purity, 
      has no danger of excess.
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