Come, let me scrub your back, inside this rain.
Inside this rain,
let me hold your hands
while our feet remain static on this clayey-loam soil.
Let our minds roam to Rome,
who knows if Romeo will turn to our Mario?
Inside this rain, let us cry unto heaven,
let us sit in the flood,
let me wash my rod
who knows if this cleansing
will make a rebirth?
Perhaps when our bodies are washed,
blood would rush
and we will have nothing to lose.
Inside this rain, let us glide against each other,
body, soul and mind.
©Jimoh Hammed
Sir Lancelot
