Making Love in the Rain on the Baby Grand Piano

As I laid across my bed, I was remembering yesterday sitting under the Oaks. My mind in another place. I could feel the swift wind in my cinnamon hair. I could feel the sun on my skin as it peeked through the branches. I was oblivious to the nature surrounding me, I was entranced by his words. I was feeling a sense of peace, I had not felt in quite awhile. His words embraced me and I found complete joy at that moment. I could smell his smell from afar, and I could feel his eyes upon me. I placed my hand upon my heart, felt it beat inside, every beat to his every word.

I closed my eyes only for a second, to feel his presence behind me. I felt his breath against my neck, felt his hands caress softly against my skin, and I heard his soft voice in my ears. Chills ran up and down my spine, and I shivered. I wanted to feel his velvet soft lips against my back. I wanted to feel his tongue trail down my spine to the small of my back and softly kiss the dimples above my buttocks as his arms wrapped around me from behind. One hand gently gliding across my breast, the other under my shirt caressing my bare belly.


My heart skipped a beat and I gasped. Remembering the scar, so visible, from the scalpel used to slice through my skin to mend my broken bones and organs. He doesn't care about the scar, but I do. Its a symbol of what was taken from me. A mere flaw one might say. My siblings say it should be a symbol of my survival, my will, my determination. To me its a grotesque symbol of months of pain. A daily reminder of that cold January day and suddenly I no longer wanted too feel his kisses on my back.

The sun is swallowed by grey clouds and I feel the coolness it brings. I laugh at his simple jokes and think how much I have missed him, how he always made me smile. I think of the regrets and wish I could toss them away. I damn my sister at that instant, for making decisions for me when my mind wouldn't work.

The clouds began to release their moisture, just a fine mist of rain. I didn't mind, it felt nice on my sun burned skin. I made my way to the porch, careful not to fall, careful not to trip over the crutches that aide me in walking. I take comfort in my straight back chair, it feels good on my mending broken back. He tells me of the things he wants to do to me. My mind begins to spin. Dreams I thought were lost, were now found again. New dreams were spoken and new dreams came to light. The rain began to pour, I watched it beat against the rose petals. Suddenly, I remembered, I wanted to make love in the rain. I wanted to feel the rain sting against my body. I wanted to feel it trickle down my back, as he lifted me, holding me up against his body by my buttocks. My legs and arms embracing him tight as we become one in the rain.

Lightening struck from afar, the thunder rumbled and I could feel it's vibration inside of me. The storm would not last long, just a small springtime storm in eastern Georgia. He tells me he wants to walk with me through the woods surrounded by the beauty of the green and brown hues. We would walk hand in hand, stopping only to kiss, maybe to even to make love.

The rain began to weaken, the wind blew droplets of water on my skin. I became weary when said he had to go. Wondering, when will I see him again. He told me he was sorry, but today I realized those dreams were never forgotten. The fires still burned and the loneliness still ached. Those 3 words were not spoken, but the love still existed deep within our souls.

As I sat on the porch in complete solitude listening and watching the placid rain drops, tears began to form in my eyes. My joy replaced by fears, replaced by sadness, replaced by regrets. I regretted like hell my own selfishness, my own stupidity. I had feared his rejection, yet I was the one who rejected him. There was not one damn time that I ever imagined us being apart, but my own selfishness pushed him away, straight into the arms of another.

I dried my tears before entering the house. I walked through the wooden
door feeling drained, but yet, I felt alive, loved, yet saddened by what I let slip away. I could feel my mind beginning to spin, the all too familiar whirl wind of emotions spinning out of control.

And then she called to me...


She called to me begging me to release. She asked for my pain, my dreams, my sorrows, my Love. She begged to feel my fingers upon the ivory keys she possessed. She wanted to feel them gracefully move up and down, delicately stroking and gliding, so she could calm the storm in my mind. She wanted to extinguish the fires of desire that burned within and quench the thirsting of my soul.

My fingers quivered, the rhythm of my heart was no longer steady. I took a seat on the padded ebony bench. My mind drifted for a moment as I sat in front of her majestic beauty. Too much had been taken from me on that cool day. Would I ever get it all back? Ive tried this before, the melodies just weren't the same. My mind could no longer comprehend the notes that pooled inside my brain. I had let my temporary disabilities consume my emotions and turn them into a violent rage, and a distinctive depression. Thinking of all my regrets, of all I had lost, of all that I will regain. Thinking of him and the time we lost. I laid my fingers on her keys. Tears wanted to sting my eyes but I tried fighting the burning. I felt a hand on the back of my shoulder. "Are you ok?" my younger brother asked. I looked up into his bright blue eyes, my own deep dark blue irises clouded with tears. I shook my head, and I whispered "I need your help"


He knows all my pain, he knows most of my secrets, I share too much with him at times. Conceived in the the same womb, birthed from the same mother, our Fathers different, our love thicker than most siblings. We know each others passion, each other's weaknesses, we share the same musical talents but to a much a different degree. We are two siblings with years stretched between us but a bond that could never be broken. A love and bond so strong, we often feel what the other feels inside.

With his electric guitar in his hands he watched my face, waiting patiently for me to begin. Our eyes lock for a moment we can see each other's pain, we know how real it is. He knows what was taken from me that day, he was there. He saw me crumpled into a pile of brokenness, crimson blood against my pale freckled skin. He was frightened, He was scared and he begged and pleaded for me not lose the fight on life. His eyes burning into mine, I could feel them in my soul. I cannot hide the pain, the reality, he sees straight through. I cannot hide from a sibling who can see what words cannot speak. The corners of his lips turn up, to a small compassionate smile, "Just let it go" he says "and I will follow." referring to the music we were about to create.
I break the trance he held, I turn my thoughts back to the ebony polish baby grand that awaits me, begging to be fed.

My fingers gently glided across the keys, she absorbed my thoughts, and turned them into a beautiful melody. A softness of the electric guitar Id never heard from him before, accompanied the melody ringing from under my fingertips.
I felt my body go weak, my heart became still. My brother took my pain, my dreams, my Love, and collaborated his own music with mine. I could no longer see the keys, the tears fell like a small flowing river down my cheeks. I was releasing it all, all that was built up and feeding it to my passion and once again I was creating music.



Today I confess.... Secrets at Noon