If You Were The Rain

    for Katherine


                if you were the rain,

I would be a fish laying on a shore
where it always rains:

gills gasping, sucking
open-close-open mouth,
staring out across the terrible sea
                                      I'd just escaped.

or a determined fisherman
in the early stages of walking pneumonia,
waiting for lightning to strike the water.

we are bound by seperation,
rather I have been unwound by you,
several thousand miles away

standing alone in the same ocean--
no, I have just made this up.
you are not like the rain or the sea or away.

but you are not here, or now.
tho you are hiding just behind my eyelids
and in my every thought.

I could say, if you were the rain,
I'd be a tin roof over the bedroom
of two sleepy lovers,

and we would be their chorus,
what their conversation turned to
when every other thought had gone.

but no, this has just been hoping.
if you were the rain I would only be me,
at last, but I would say "the rain"
                        over and over and mean it.

and I would dream every night
that you were dreaming about me
dreaming about you.