Running With the Rain

This rain absolves my sweat and seals my skin
with cool and pleasant temporary grace.
As I continue reaching deep within,
reprieve becomes the moisture on my face.
My legs are washed, anointed, as I run
by rivulets of clear and healing rain.
Each raindrop is a spirit; every one
absorbs the smallest facet of my pain.
This storm proceeds, a catalyst of speed
in drenching curtains, pushing me to fly
beyond cathartic cadences; I need
the rain to mask the tears that I will cry.
This rain commingles with my sweat, my tears
and lets me run beyond my deepest fears.

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