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patterning
it’s raining
sad summer rain
at 5am this morning
as i go to bed
to the sound of birds.
i write an inscription of
the people i have allowed myself to lose,
a memory of
(the rest of my life)
shot into the sun.
i can barely feel your arm around my waist
as we speak
in silence and subtitles
i wanted to be a witness (to this)
i wind up
humiliated by the dawn.
3 Comments:
pitter patter
clicker clacker
dancing your words
in my head
an untterable point in space
sad rain
jes, how's the weather now in Sydney town?
alex and i sat in the pattering warm night rain until the early hours of the morning smoking cigarettes, drinking red wine and talking about politics, hip-hop, and of course, bruce springsteen.
this was lovely rain that comes from a hazy-almost-summer night sky and makes my hair go crazy curly.
what's the weather like in chile town?
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Well now that I finally reply spring has blossomed! Sun, sol, hace sol!! I get under it every chance I get. But there's this mexicana in my class who insists winter is better...
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