#sirimiri

Language Moodboard Spanish – sirimiri

(n.) a light rain; a fine drizzle

She would never flood my home, but she was just loud enough to wake me

Small hands tapping on my windows, kissing sadness into my dark days

Questioning whether or not to travel outside umbrella in hand

Or to simply be washed by her falling tears covering the world

Small, shallow puddles reflecting only ripples never the full tale

She would never flood my home, but she was just loud enough to stir me

Falling kisses meant for no one, but those who look up, greeting the sky

“If you don’t need to put a hood up, it’s not rain,” a voice snaps in response to a question, and a woman walks through me without pausing.

When the rain cries, no one notices.

The boy who was beside her stops. She turns back. “Jay.” The word contains storms and the calm centring them all at once.

“Hi,” the boy says to me, speaking in the tongues of water and sky.

I make a response. I do not even know what it is.

He asks what I am, and my name, and I offer both. No human has ever done this before. I did not know humans could care enough about such things.

“You don’t need to be sad,” he says. “Between a between-place is really important too and there are people who would give a lot to be a secret like a  sirimiri is!”

The still sky

Holds the whisper of drizzle

In her hands,

Tames it to her whim,

And soaks the world

"Are you the bar tender?" she asked him, her voice tickling his ear; he shook his head-- "who are you, then?" her lips and his drawing near. "I'm just waiting for something new" he said, the day they almost kissed; she took his hand and led him out the door into the mist.