eschatological storms and the redeath of adromeda

i. The days of nonstop rain is the only sign of the end of the world.

We watched as water slowly filled the roads,

struggling home as our shoes got drenched and the wind made us shiver.

It wasn’t a flood, or a thousand strikes of lightning that told us we were done for;

the largest rainstorm that has every graced the planet was

gentle.

There was no drowning, no pain;

just the steady fall of rain.

ii. I used to think we’d go out in fire and flame,

burn ourselves out like the dead stars we look up to each night.

The stars have been hidden for weeks but the air has never felt cleaner.

You used to whisper the stories of constellations on quiet nights

when we both pretended life was kinder to us that it was.

Look, you’d say, Cassiopeia, the vain Queen watches the world turn without her.

Look, you’d say, Andromeda, the chained maiden punished for the crimes of another.

The sky is filled with monsters and victims and we stared up at a sky full of ghosts,

wondering which ones haunt us so long after the dead have been buried.

Stars and fire and a waiting hell --

who would have thought we’d die to the rain?

iii. This world will continue without us.

We know this.

We’ve always known this.

That doesn’t make it hurt any less;

the long nights I held you as you wondered if anyone would miss you,

the days spent with our mothers’ disapproval scarring us endlessly,

the knowledge that we will be forgotten faces at the end of it all.

I loved you in the sunshine and the hail, through every storm we weathered.

The thunder drowns out your cries but the lightning illuminates mine.

iv. The power goes out and doesn’t come back on.

Even without working clocks, we know when we’ve entered the final hour.

You stepped out into the rain in nothing but your nightgown

letting the storm baptize you anew.

Here in the storm, I follow your silhouette through the empty, flooded streets

I’d follow you to the ends of the Earth.

Cassiopeia and Andromeda, you say when you finally turn to me,

Do you think they ever found forgiveness?

Mothers and daughters carry the same scars that marred their skin centuries ago.

Lovers ease the pain, but only enough to stay alive.

They found their way to the stars, isn’t that enough?

Your smile is small but I see it through the rain anyways.

I reach for you through the storm--

you reach back.

The rain stops.

v. On the other side of this stygian storm,

I’ll find you in the light.