it’s raining in june
and it makes me hate you
hate your tearstained cheeks
and engraved umbrella
a stupid gift from your grandma
but you got me one too
the way water rolls down my window
in rivulets that know to imitate the patterns
they made down the glass of the Chevy
with its temperamental wipers
that never fully cleared the dash
the puddles that pool near the poppies you planted
you said bouquets died too early
and the red buds would outlast even us
the sound of droplets
their steady thrum on my roof
that’s starting to sound like your murmur
it’s raining in june
and god do i wish for the sun
because everytime it pours
i remember my umbrella
with our initials
under your thumb.
– ammarah siddiqui