Reflection on the Raindrops

The rain spills over the windows
Rivulets and crests and curving silver linings
Draining into empty swells
Lonely after midnight
Drinking hard cider alone with the glow of the computer screen
And fingers tapping rhythmically over the keyboard
Pitter patta patta pitter patta patta
The rhythm of my heart
My chest
My breasts
My breathing
Un-lonliness
Tired bony brittle hunger
Thirst writhing in my ribcage like
Water
Like oceans of salt embezzled water
Like deep roots and floating branches
Like black earth
And deep tunnels of rich, purple longing -
Red stained glasses
And rings on white tablecloths
Like birds blown by the wind in a thunderstorm
Like ice on my teeth
Like flossing
Like loss...
Like the cold of the window - I press my head against it
I press my fingertips into it,
I linger and let myself feel the electricity...
Between two people
Between two walls
Between two panes of solid liquid glass
Between two steaming cups of coffee
At a too-small table
And the careful air between our not touching shoelaces
And the knot of the pine-peg between our not touching knees
And the space of safety in the hovering tension inflamed dead-ness of our not inter-laced fingers
And the breath of you on the back of my neck
And the night steam in the cold car
And the slip-slosh of the wiper blades
And the skid-scrape of the blacktop type pavement -
I am no longer waiting,
I am no longer driving,
I am not longer crying alone in the driveway...
Because I am here
I am present
I am with...
Them all.