the thousandth time

Rain hugs these hills
holding to these slopes,
as closely as my attention
to you,
in a summers dress.

Whose fields I follow
in contoured coloured cotton
on your skin.

Droplets clinging with spring, embrace
these finest stems, sheerest surface,
softest thin;
silvered curving filling to release.

Tremulous is tumbled
for the thousandth time
into this dream of us.