Reeling in Rounds

A Poem by Lexi

What part of my mind always
brings me back to you?
No matter what the circumstance
your caressing voice rings,
tumbling and reeling in rounds
as raindrops attack windowpanes
until the latest of hours.
I crave your arms,
warm, freckled, scarred and all,
the curve of your fingers,
morning rain and your aftershave.
And as I lay here night after night,
I can’t help but ask myself
why dwell on someone I used to know?
The rain pounds, an unforgiving drum.