It was raining in the summer, and I felt relief.
I sighed and let my shoulders drop as the rain fell on us.
On us, talking about anything other than what we were talking about.
Want to see a movie?
How was work?
Unemployment? Sucks.
Smiles, and we’re walking in the rain.
“You want a jacket, my friend?”
I have only a sweater to offer.
Bare arms, thin shirt, but he’s alive. He’ll let the rain fall.
Such common secrets, kept by all,
and pitiful, the tears that fall
while all around’s the drizzled din
of what’s become a common sin.
We’ll call no sin a sin
no matter what we know.
A sin to call sin sin,
so you’ll be made to go.
You cannot fight what you avoid,
but we’re all wet down here.
We’re ruins, all our dreams destroyed,
pretending every tear.
Again he goes, again we go…
No honesty we’ll ever show.
Tiresias spoke of this storm,
but I count two and no third form.
Alone, I pray to God.
He’s walked off through the rain.
Contre cette façade,
Je romps le pain.
Tale Told 