handful of silver

it’s raining
again
and i’m walking
again,
circling the city,
finding my way home,
feeling the thunder shake the sidewalks-
a domestic dispute
on a grander scale.

the water comes in sheets and fists
slow
then fast
faster
furious
with the cement
for holding its ground.

drops drip
down my collar,
trickling down my spine
to the small of my back,
seeking the hollow
there,
ignoring the hollow
in my belly
in search of heat.
i shiver, shaking like i haven’t felt
since you.

i’m wide awake
for the first time in days
and
it’s raining
and
i miss you.