Lured
They wait
As lies fold
Up a fortress
Of paper towels
To fight the furling rain,
Gusting like old promises
To race the edge of reasoning,
We are the blurring syntax written,
Ruched towers tear the torrents beginning.
Antonia Sara Zenkevitch
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Antonia Sara Zenkevitch 
Love this poem. Even if it’s raining.
Thank you ☺️☔
My pleasure 🙂