Summer Rain
Pluie d’été, or averse d’été. It depends
on the weight of the raindrops
on skin, how quickly
they soak through to the heart.
Tiny happenings of language.
In between
are le soleil, le ciel,
les nuages. I persist
in conjugating love – the late afternoon kind
that's swollen and golden
with summer.
Aimer.
A hairline fracture of inflection
between to like
and to love.
La tempête, but our bodies
hold the thunder.
Elodie Barnes is a poet, reviewer and essayist. She can be found writing in Paris, Spain or the UK (usually mixing up her languages), and is guest editor of the Life in Languages series at Lucy Writers’ Platform. Find her online at http://elodierosebarnes.weebly.com and on Twitter here: @BarnesElodie.