until we left

how it rained those nights
in mexico, the sea
below our balcony, the wind
pushing water
into our room.
you could see the storm
over the glassy
cove, mountains in the hills
painted blue.
how we watched from the bed,
eating, drinking,
making love.
waiting for the rain to end.
four days and nights,
it never stopped. no sun,
no light.
just the rain, and us in bed,
waiting.
we could have been anywhere,
but we were in mexico.
and in two years she would
be dead, and I would thinking
about this trip we took.
where the rain never stopped
until we left.