Falling

​Rain patters down houses, 

 bare trees, telephone poles–

dripping into earth.

Inside — crippled confidence,

despondent drive,

the ways of seeing outside–

the ways of sense interpretation.

Hiding under wrinkled cotton

and luminescently pale skin.

Hiding under organs, muscles,

nerve-endings, blood vessels,

 body’s anatomical matter.

Can only hear ticking clocks,

wind and rain.

Can only feel ticking bombs,

whimpers and tears.

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