# 8/30 Sex God and Rain

Sometimes 

before the rain,

When it grays,

Just before those few sprays touch your face. 

I think, 

That God must be a child ready for tears. 

Ushering from his cloudy lips are thunder 

or better yet ungentle grunts as he back peddles,

one foot clasp in whimsical hands,

and sausage fingers 

picking out lightenling needles 

and... pins....

other times I think,

this,

must be, 

what 

sex 

feels like....