It must have been the words carried on the air
The subtle trickling of meaning soaking itself into every neuron
Even making the atmosphere more humid
Or was it the flop sweat
Or the tears
Or the reign
The cloud began as soft tufts of obfuscation
Ever so infrequently blocking the luminosity
The disinfectant of daylight
Passing by like idle thoughts
Bubbles of speech in illustrated Sunday funnies
Then the thoughts, and the chatter, and the gossip
Blotted the sky with ominous darkness
With the portent of storm
Lowering slowly, as clouds are wont to do
They prevailed their dominion over land
Abandoning heaven
There is no heaven
And alighted onto the cement and asphalt as fog
The chatter, the gossip, the silent and deafening thoughts
The din which became hush
As I walked into rooms
The change in mood in tone in pressure
In atmosphere
I was a cold front walking into a hot mess
I brought the storm
Maybe it was the flop sweat
Or the tears
But I could swear it was raining
Not a cloud in the sky