under slime that sticks
between hairs and fingers
you felt stuck between
the Pontiac
and my duvet
so with a trudge
through oceans of time
and cracks on the pavemnt
leading the apartment and my hand
to your rainboots
and wet smile and bright pink umbrella
with too much vitality
for this neighborhood
to handle you were scooped
up by my arms
and with raindrop pellets
landing awkwardly
between nostrils
and between eyebrows
and through the sticky weight
of break-up politics
I took you back to our bed.