It Is Raining Somewhere
It is raining somewhere.
The thought of it sticks.
It is raining somewhere
and love makes me sick.
It is sleeping, this love,
I remember when it was
wide awake for years and
how the rain was like our
love, treacherous like a
throat slit, like the spell
of witchery, like a hole
six feet down, like a coffin.
It is raining somewhere
because my bones ache.
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