Rain binds me to a
dry room, pulling in home made
net filled images
of a night we ran laughing
the rain tickling our storm.

The rain tickling our storm
we sit, long distances we
can't touch, water flows
where our roots take hold pumping
blood into our veins.

Samurai.
I don't know about the people
But the scarecrows
all are crooked.

Issa

Games! Come! I challenge you!
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