There is still the taste of Lie on your lips.
I can smell it through the phone.
I can hear it as though you were holding me with it.
But, I can’t see it.
It’s intermingled, as Pandora’s evils are with
normal truths, with all of reality.
Or, at least, the reality I’d built up.
Everyone told me never to trust you,
and I told them they were wrong.
Yes, you are Rain, for you slip through my fingers,
and run away from my arms.