Rain

Thick black sacks flow inwardly, spewing
translucent mallets; their
heads to the floor like flickering monks,
humming ordinate sighs. Thick mouths stain
the skies with reds-to-greens-to-blues.

Edges that blink inside their eyes,
stinging against the bleeding
chest, served by translucent nuances
that land on idle black strings, ringing
to the touch.

The vague hairs of an infant,
its face streaming with colours that
curl around a screaming black mouth.
Curling around a chord; high like a
plummeting stone.