It may only take a night
for June to become July.
But the night when June breathes into July,
it takes such a quiet fight.

The rain keeps pouring.
The night is weeping.
Your heart is still beating.
You are still breathing.

‘Breathe.’

The moon hides tonight,
offering the night no light,
but the light in your eyes shines—open.

The rain pours down
as the ground holds you down
but you let it kiss you, sinking down—open.

Dream takes you
to the world where love knows you,
into the space between two—open.

Not in the night,
the moon rises at first light,
welcoming you back to its light—open.

‘Breath.’

Let the rain fall.
Let the body cry.
Let the heart crack.
Let the pain go.

It may only take a night
through storms that pour through the night,
but to weep out all the rain of cries,
it takes such a quiet fight.