Only When It Rains

I only love you when it rains….when the sun isn’t distracting me with it’s warmth, temporarily blinding me, so that, even in my mind, I can’t see you. I only love you when it’s stormy, when I’m trapped inside, staring out the window, instead of sitting next to a friend in a boat, whizzing across the water, going so fast that I outrun any memory of you. I only love you when it’s dark and there’s nothing else to focus on, when there’s nothing to remind me that dreams aren’t real and the night can’t take you back in time, and pulling the blanket over your head only makes it hard to breathe. I only love you when I’m out walking on the beach, in the early morning, listening to the waves crashing, chanting, it’s over, it’s over, move on, watching them rush forward to swirl around my ankles, burying my feet in the sand, making it hard to move. For a moment, I stand still and just feel the drops on my bare arms. I only love you when it rains.

Seems the writers are in serious mode today. Here’s one my cousin just sent me.

By Kate LaDew

I could see the effort that went into your silence,

your stillness, tremors only visible in the clutch of your fingers,

the bones shining through

later, when everything was dark

you told me about the earthquake inside you

how, after the casket was lowered, the first handful of dirt thrown,

it took everything not to fall to your knees, pound your fists on the earth

no, please, my heart’s in there