Thinking about writing.

Take me into the rain.

Take me into the rain again.

This time I will not be afraid that you will walk too fast and leave me behind

or that I will get tired and you will know that I am too old.

I will give you all my quarters for the meter so we can walk longer

talk longer

evaporate longer.


Take me onto the street again

where I will still laugh maniacally when

waiting for that light to change

as I feel my worries rise and disperse

even as my braids are soaked

and speckled with sleet.


Take me into the night again and

I might slip my hand into yours

and purposefully forget about the map on my phone

and purposefully take a wrong turn.

And when I ask you to not do this to me

I won’t mean: make me walk in the rain.

I will mean: don’t make me feel like I’m walking off the edge of the world.

For B

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