Rain

As the raindrops slowly fall,
gradually accumulating on the once-dry cement floor,
memories of the past slowly wet my mind,
inhibiting my thoughts from grasping the present reality.

As the raindrops first begin,
unknowingly clustering as an empty mass above my head,
my eyes close
and my face welcomes their stain on my skin.

I am
Saturated,
Consumed,
and the stains begin to feel my own.
But I urge myself to head home.

And yet,
as the raindrops
.`.`.`.`.gently.`.`
.`.`.`.slither.`.`.`
.`.`.`.`.down.`.`.`.`
`.`.`.`.the.`.`.`.`.
.`.`.`.`.`.window`.`.,
forming families every now and then only to

B UR ST

and

s e p a r a t e
from how saturated
they have become,

my hands writhe against the cold table,
itching for an escape.


It was inevitable.

And no roof could ever prevent their seeping presence.