The look of the rain

a writing by Yannis Politopoulos

This is a story from the moist drops of a wild, a merciless oblivion.
A sequence of events initiated by the clouds of heaven with winter destination eyes of women.
The woman that stood opposite the closed window watching the rain drops off the floor of the courtyard.
It is the woman who once embodied the absence of the eyes of a man. She escaped from the shackles of a violent man and yet sweet. The woman's brain.
Even now standing by the window the rain, she has not found the words to describe accurately the brain.
But it was not fleeing and falling.
Do not come to any given destination in contrast to the rain that always leads inevitably to the ground.
But she thinks the same with her tears. Those for whom even knows the cause that makes them roll under the shadow of the eyelid.
She thinks the rain is over, when the silence distract her eyelids the light of the future, the eyes of the heart. From that childhood dream back years and years in the eyes of a life manned by the blue sea falling in love the random children's suggestive that even God finds it difficult to understand.
Then this woman happens to be identical with the rain and looking forward to the rain the rain poem writes the autumn afternoons in the glass windows of a summer that was telling lips lovers midnight. Lovers who fell in love with the story was to realize and eventually managed to overcome rewriting a version for every season.
Why have learned that the rain and cry when the eyes thickens in front of the vastness of a sun porch that was forgotten the loneliness and left naked waiting for their lovers and children of another, a cozy life of a truly affectionate silence.
And then she stops looking for the causes of the flight and identified with the event of rain, the state of rain caress that is running in full just a kiss, to create the beginning of an unexpected return to the union of two texts, which like written at different times by different hands, yet so easy to join, so unexpectedly, word for word, kiss by kiss, page by page while browsing through the vastness of a single imagination.

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