I've got to fall in love again
like my whole house is not a home
when I pretend it's empty.
I have to fess up to this glutinous weather
using my hiding places to expose me
until there is no where left to hide
no rivers
no puddles.
This water is cramming itself next to me
a stranger on the bus with his hands between your knees
swimming up to my chest
a fetus awaiting its abortion
as a mother whispers that she is just fine
the sound wave first dripping through windows
until vulnerable enough to burst
then leaping at the chance to degrade it to its insecure shards
devastation scattered across my carpet floor,
this water is the second guest occupying a room for one
beneath these covers is where hope resides:
invisibility and the falsity of survival
this deluge is kissing every surface of my habitat
elevating me to the very top of what is my home no longer
an opaque angel
or a suffocating hell I cannot decide
its riptides part nature part me
as my lungs warn me of heaven on the other side of this roof.
My clothes are soaked but I am still trying to keep my feet dry
as I pull the blanket tangled around me closer
cover my face, condemn the light from coming in
in fear that there is none.
I don't remove my eyes from my indifference
splashing blindly to find the hand of calm amidst the thick liquid demise
a sadistic game of Marco Polo,
I do not hold my breath
like I did as a child;
I just let all of the small dams in my body break
and ignore the flood in my mouth.