So we're sitting
there, right?
We as in you and me.
Not an us, but a you
and me;
Something we agreed on a while ago.
But like I
said, we're sitting there,
Staring at the sky and
talking,
Mostly about the meaning of life
Or something.
Your eyes never
leave the clouds
Gathering together, warning us,
I mean, you
and me,
That a storm is coming.
We're silent for a few
moments
Before you tilt your head to the side
And say something
about how
Life is like an incredibly intense rainstorm.
I don't really get
what you mean,
And I don't particularly like rain
Unless it's
very, very light,
So the metaphor is lost on me.
But I shrug it
off;
Keep staring at the clouds.
Because I like that about
us.
Pardon, you and me.
Not everything makes
sense.
And not everything has to.