Many voices speak; yours is like water
Yours is like rain, when it falls through the night
Murmuring deeply, sinking tentatively
Slow, heistant, painfully alive.

Rippling like shallows behind all sounds
Trickling and dripping against my skin
Shrouding softly, closing me in
Filling my ears with whispering memories.

I want to sit quietly where I cannot disturb you
I want to live and dwell where I can hear you
Many voices speak; through them all
I hear only yours falling as a night rain.

~ Author: Karin Boye ~



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