Tonight, the first fall of rain
washes away our sly distance
and I have decided to blame no one for my life.
This downpour feels like a great privacy.
Books and letters sink into my desk,
washing off all inhibitions
as we slowly learn to talk of our suffering.
With thunder as a gift that reverberates
in the roof of our mouths,
you taught me to fight off the gentle rotting things
lapped up against my waist,
granting sweet death in the wavering phosphorescence.
Your pretty face stands out,
in this room where you're just 4 seats away, boy I see you.
I see you as your beaming eyes
make their way into my marrow and teach it to hum.
It's telling me that my life is a gift, a triumph,
a car racing through the rain.