Angst or the Ice Rain

The morning rain remains and angst eats up your soul. He will

walk beside you, stand rested and calm and

wave cheerfully from a bridge over the railway.

He will wait for hours before your house.

Seemingly a perfect gentleman, quiet and

unassuming, his breath warm and sweet ,

smelling of peppermint when he whispers

into your ear.  But when the last ice rain comes, he will

suck the dye from your sodden clothes and

kneel before you, head turning, like an

animal tearing scraps from a long bone.

Reviews

[Lina Grey]

Very descriptive and very powerful, especially the ending, which was a great twist. Your a fantastic writer. Thank you.