The rain is silent,
It just sits on my window pane and sometimes slips away
Its scent lurks the musky room where the creases of the sheet still lay
The impressions of our bodies turned away from each other still stay
The pages of my half read book flutter in the thundering winds
The wax from the burnt candle chips away and crumbles by my toes
A cup of coffee, dark and strong
Oblivious to the orchestra of birds outside
Today no conversations fill my mind
Only the silence of the rain.
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