weekend light in heavy rain

something hiding in the rainclouds: light /

pockets inside out and i'm staring at ten fingers,

extended towards the ceiling

(they're yours)

and somehow we ended up with our legs intertwined

(you've been on my mind)

and i'm thinking about the way you planted kisses on my nose

(how did i end up here?)

when we stood at the window and watched the rain

i didn't know

the world's expanding; i think

i'm afraid of the snap back to order

but i like when you touch our fingertips together

and i like your hand on the small of my back

and i can't see at all but it's right, i think

there's so much more i need to say

but

words get in the way, right?

so i'll put them some place you'll never see them:

here

or the back of my mind, coloring book pages with scribbling words

and fairy hearts and stick-on stars

all to remember the way you look at me sometimes