All I know that is is that rain never falls twice in the same place.
Dampness at my eyelids, sliding down cheeks, Hush my child,
it is merely rain. I am not cryin, those are not tears, and yet
even as the thunderclaps and the lightning sizzles ozone,
I am confronted with the loneliness of it all, silent and stoic,
palm trees flattened with the weight of rain, the wind which
screams like a woman and threatens to tip me over side,
to which all I can think is goddamn, this is my death
and I can only mutely watch as light burns and dark consumes,
that pain which slices deep, and you know, as I know,
that we never really speak of it though it’s there.