Dance in the Full Moon

O, the Frailty of Memory

Friday, June 16, 2017

6.16

I am the sounds of heavy rain. I breathe in the spaces between drops, a thin silence amid the hammering. My voice is the hiss of droplets disintegrating. I move like the gurgle in a rivulet, a dance that changes without being different. I spatter. Why cover your head? Why rush indoors? I'm here, waiting for you in the downpour.

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