As she dances in the rain.

I cannot help but be anything more than a bystander watching her path 

But I can’t seem to ignore how she transforms the things around her

The sidewalk becomes her dance floor 

The cars that try to pass in traffic are now her audience.

And the rain…the rain is her adoring applause.

I care nothing for the audience.

I care nothing for how their cheers pour down on us both.

I care nothing for the strangers who stop and stare

Because I do not blame them for looking

Her beauty is blinding even under gray clouds. 

She cares for the things I don't

And what I let slip by mean everything to her.

She loves the audience.

And cares nothing for her  soaking clothes that latch to her legs like chains 

And that seem to weigh like feathers.

She pays no mind to the slash of the rain under and around us

And by now her smile may feel like nothing but a reflex.

She loves the feeling of people being mesmerized by her

As she turn her moves into a movie

And the world? Her theater.

I am only lucky to have 

A front-row seat.