The Rain Will Come

The sky is welling up.
This is definitely a tragic affair.

The Husband stands outside the department store window.
His love in one hand and his wife in the other,
He kisses his insatiable iniquity as he draws the Wife close.
His adulterous hold sickens the Mannequin,
An audience in a floral dress.
The window keeps the Mannequin from speaking,
So she watches a betrayal unfold
In silence.

The Wife loves the Husband more than anything.
With every breath taking her further away,
She exhales to bring them closer.

The Husband wishes he can say the same.
With each drag of his cannabis whore,
He holds the sin in.

The Wife, in a familiar floral fabric,
Prays for a little of the affection.
So, he tucks his love where it belongs,
Behind her back.

The Mannequin, in the same floral fabric,
Prays for a little animation.
Yet she remains unmoved
and holds back the tears until the sky cries first.

The Wife doesn't see the Mannequin's face,
She's blinded by the shoulder of her husband and her eyelids.
But the Husband sees the downcast expression.

The sky can't hold back the tears anymore.
The forecast didn't call for evening misery...

The Husband sees the tears of the Mannequin
Falling down her face on the department store window.
Conviction too strong for love, he drops his lust
And holds his wife a little tighter.
His eyes apologize to the Mannequin's,
but are left unforgiven.

The Husband and the Wife leave the scene of guilt.
And the Mannequin is left with the sight of a used stick of love,
An ember still glowing where the whore was left unkissed.
But the cannabis whore is not worried,
She knows he'll come back for more when the Wife goes to sleep.