It's rained every day this week.
I don't have what I did the last,
I'm not the same.
I think this may be another world;
It enveloped me, incautiously.
I did not see it coming--
Cool arms blurred my view and embraced me.
I opened.
My reflections are silvery, but I am not.
Everything is gray.
I don't hate it.
The sky's breath is cold
And I feel it soak through my clothes.
I set my umbrella down today and
I stood there. I closed my eyes.
I don't know who I am in this place,
But I feel okay.
I've lost, am lost, but little has changed.
I have not washed away.
Like storm clouds, I hold onto what's gathered around me.
I want to feel this ambivalent nothingness.

The rain brings new beginnings,
But now I must play the storyteller.