rain

i miss it.

jus a pic. my heart flies there. more than the pics of holidays. a simple pic of she.

i do not forget it was less than comfortable. i do not forget it was not always warm, or clean, or working.

and still my heart flies there.

i could ask You why..

but i know You know i find it hard sometimes..

perhaps the test is this, if i could live here, as much Yours, as i was there..