A Blues Coloured Grey

It rained again.
All flowed slow like a dream.
No gleam in those drops,
Just the steady grey flow
Reminding.

You spoke razor words
With a silver tongue,
Too delicate to pierce
Yet with edges sharp
To sever the heart.

Another day,
Another foul routine
Sapping the vertigo
Of loves flight path.
But it was you.

In the shelter
The cigarette smoke
Escapes.
The burn left with a kiss
When you came.

Now I inhale
With the rain,
Past the point of pale.
I'll soon light another
For a slow suicide...

It still rains.