this afternoon at work i was busying myself at the front window when it started to rain. the water hit the hot pavement and the warm smell of all the muck that had ever soaked into the pavement rose out again. it was a warm, heavy smell and for some reason i was hit with the sudden urge to cry. i didn’t, but i wanted to and part of me felt like maybe i should.
“you are the smell before rain;
you are the blood in my veins.”
- brand new