Foreign Rain

Even the Rain is different here.
Lush, sensual.
Every drop laden with sexual fullness.

The men, beautiful.
Each nose, darkly lashed eye,
Curl of hair falling into the face
Worn unknowingly with grace and masculinity.

At home there is a frantic job.
Unfocused and frighteningly pointless.
Pushing pixels and images around on a screen.
Channeling money and going home with little.

A relationship, shifting.
Intensity, indifference, passion, ambivalence.
I was warned,
Told what was coming my way.
Does that make it right?

It's so easy to fall into tropical oblivion.

The sun blasts away thought.
Body and mind washed in blowing sand, bobbing waters.
Some come to lose and refill their soul.
Mine, already full, seeks only a moment of peace.

Sun, sand, water and luscious rain
Now strengthen me for the trip home.
I am armed again with the joy and wisdom
That set me apart when I was young.

My body craves the physical strength
It has forgotten and never fully explored.
I shunned and tortured it because
I fear the power of beauty.

Power no longer scares me.
Full lips, strong muscles, sexual energy
Flaunts itself in front of me.
An endless parade of willing bodies
Which no longer tempt me.
I remained true to the doubtful one.

Self restraint has opened up the world.
My body awaits, my mind itches for more.
Sumptuous rain, burning sun
No longer temptation but rejuvenation.