Words are Warm

Let me walk the streets with my pal, a can of cold cheap soda fused in my hand, siping the bitterness itchy on my tongue, dressed in my neat new clothes i step in equilibrium on the crest of the curb, dodging the spurts of happy wet grass blooming between the blocks while she goes assured on the rough tarmac, slithering between the dripping parked cars we exchange our ways at every turns, both always equal, i point at a fancy housing recently painted in a shiny orange, here to be our only sun ray impersonation, she directs me along the roads she knows to show me the plants and greenery she learnt to describe, stopping, crouching each time with that same enthousiasm, all along a lively discussion endlessly ongoing, words are shared, so many, with that resonance and inner passion, that both of us now completely drenched never noticed the drilling rain who tainted that mediocre day.