Inside of Heavy Precipitation

Outside. A
Moist peace permeated the air.
Blindly jubilant, everything to you seemed fine,
But the fog’s droplets condensed heavily on my skin.
For me it has always been
Harder to see during this weather.
Perhaps it is just that you are insoluble and
That is the reason things like rain or fog
Don’t soak you through.

With the
Dampness thickening, and
The whole gray day condensing into a ball,
Round and tightly formed like angry fists.
Wetter now, wetter...
Ah but yes, I wait for the eye of the inundation--things aren't through
With us yet.

There has always been my intolerance for the dampness,
Your ignorance to it, and the way
You prefer no jacket at all.
Just made me pull up my slicker even
Further around my neck when I felt it coming.

As soon as I would mention going inside somewhere warm, out of the
Wet surroundings, you’d place your hand on my cheek and
Wipe away a few drops of
Cold-encased moisture.
Your heated touch always keeping me there.
Yet, like always afterwards,
You’d go off puddle dancing while I stood without you,
Shivering, watching you splash
Up water and mud.

Caroline Elsberry's Questions:

Does stanza three throw the whole poem out of whack and confuse the reader?

Does the poem seem completed or is more progression needed in certain stanzas?

What feelings (if any) were evoked while reading the poem?

Does the contrast of the title against the first line work with the idea of difference between the speaker and the person spoken to in the poem?

Are the tenses correct?

Thank you