The Rain and Her
SIMAR SINGH

She's coming over,

and nobody is home.

Winter has begun,

and we are all alone.

We curl up on the couch.

The bottle of wine; empty.

Eyes; full of love.

It starts raining heavily outside;

this couch is the best place to hide.

She looks at me,

and I look back at her.

I feel a butterfly tickle my belly;

the rain and her breath; both get heavy.

And while it floods outside,

we find refuge in each other's eyes.

And then suddenly, the light goes away!

Did we have so much electricity between us

that the entire city's power went away?

But despite the dark, we find our way.

She says, "There's another unseasonal storm

where so many things went wrong."

But I tell her, "We're lucky to be together.

We can thank the untimely showers."

And she smiles.

If loving in these uncertain times is a war,

then this is a battle that we have won.

And I can tell her that I love her,

I love her like a solar panel loves the sun.