Bottom to Top; I’m yours?

On that cloudy shower, you stuck lad

your shoe fell in love while your foot claps with mud

barefooted guy on a lane that’s never straight

I’m on the edge of  jeans, please fall for me at the first sight

 

wooden bench, there you go

are you setting a date on umbrella tree

I need to suspend and roll over sitting knees

if he stands, I am dead spat on the brownies

Whoa! I must have incarnated as Olympic ace

now I’m lodging on your broad grace

I sniff on your grimace wrapped up in a hair

sweat perpendicular to the drops of rain

resembles a hiding cave at uninviting mass

Can I blow my breeze to shine you up?

Do not stood me up, I’ll fall mercilessly

 

oh! my back hurts.

and he has gone

swirling from bottom to top

I’m yours?

Everybody doubt that

because I am a Pest ( Daily prompt)