he promised me snow, but delivered only rain | nikita | downtown boston

a quick glance across the street

as rain drops pelt your face and dampen your collar.

The gay pattern of her skirt, the smear of bright red on her lips, and the confidence

keeping her warmer  than a coat ever could

all demand a second look.

So you look.

Dashing across the street, she pauses on the median

lingering between traffic

admiring the view

almost as if following a whispered command, the rain pauses for a long breath

and the sigh that follows fills the streets with a deep, dank mist of white