The kind that doesn’t
Just sprinkle but wets
You like the bathroom shower
Head the feeling of being
In public fully clothed wet
As if you’ve just taken a swim
Satisfying and strange
Your saturated apparel needs
No more explanation
Than the absent umbrella
You are free
To pretend you’re five years old
Again on the prowl for the greatest
Puddle where you will smash
Your feet into the temporary
Pool see how high the water
Splashes even when the drops
So big and profuse weigh
Your lashes as if trying to find
A duct become your tears
it feels so good say “let it all out
sky, don’t stop your ugly crying
thunder harder let your tear drops
bounce their way down
the gutter” when you get home
peel the heavy fabrics down
your body submerge your skin
under the shower head bury
yourself in the moisture don’t
come up for breath until the clouds
hiccup and you’re saturated
clean as the street.
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