first rainfall of Spring 

at 12 the sky opened and flushed the rivers dry.

I waited for the lights to change,

sodden tights wrapped like seaweed around my ankles. 

Look up – I inhale the raindrops; they flow down my throat. 

I turn myself inside out, I am suspended,

arms reaching up, blue tissue paper skin clutching for the shoreline.

i run my fingers along its brittle edges

my icicled fingers trace words into the swell,

waiting for the next big freeze to pin them there: 

I love you, love you,

do you –

question becomes its own undoing,

undresses, slips in beside me

two fists,

two halves of a whole,

twin tear drops on your cheek

I lean to wipe them away 

and wake tangled in ropes of my own dripping hair. 

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