If it be your will

Here we are then in the rain again, you and I.
Like the beginning.
Holding cold numb hands and trying to see eachother through soaked eyes.
This would be romantic if you weren't crying so much.
This would be cute if I wasn't so ugly.

A Leonard Cohen song keep running through my head for some reason, but not the one you'd think.
They're playing our song, I say, and she looks right through me.
She's more beautiful now that she ever was.
His song finally drowns away when you ask what's left to say.
I tell you.

You can't be mad at me for speaking your mind?
How was I suppose to know that I wasn't suppose to know?
But I am sorry.
Again.
Naturally.


- P -