Chasing the Quarks

Dented fingernails in a cyclone of sheets. I remember when the rain never lasted this long. When there was no way to measure so much surrender.

When we'd have sex. Kneading skin like clay. Into shapes it would never keep. With fingers too nervous to turn over. And catch the rain. Collecting the afterwards in sober fragments. Children draped in mother's clothes.

Life's buxom dominoes teetering

With so many words at my disposal I was never able to say. Anything at all. With so many people to love it still wouldn't happen.

I should have lied. Let the rain fall a little harder.

I should have noted the colors. Knowing I'd never see them again.

I should have said so much. But it had never rained so long. And I'd never been so close to seeing where it came from.

He told me I should find someone else to love. And I believed him.

If a raindrop isn't small enough to catch. There's always the option to let it fall.