deep sonorous rotund drops
melt paper and over shredded
self-pity our hands clasp together
all the words used to describe
just me thinking this
watch the cars bleed through the night
carrying other women.
Porous
the hiss of tires on a wet road
a porous cacophony of noise
tarmac delineations defined in rain
so small so quiet so alone
struggling to write poems
in the open air
but the rain!