rain
they used to say rain
would wash off your face
and skin would hold
the world away
but the warmth seeped
through my pores
and into my bones
what surprised me
nothing changed
as it flowed around
thin lines traced down
my jaw to neckline
a trickle down the centre
of my chin
it waited
just behind my teeth
as if listening
the drops gathered
in places I hadn’t noticed before
the hollow of my throat
the inside of my wrist
lingering
longer than falling should
I stood still
but something in me
kept adjusting
as though the rain
was finding the edges
of where I ended
and softening them
until even my name
felt like something
resting lightly
on the
surface
as if there were more of me
just beyond reach
rooms I hadn’t entered
but could feel
breathing
each step
arriving before I moved
the air shifting
to make space
for something
I hadn’t named
or maybe
had forgotten
how to keep out
my hands
no longer sure
what they belonged to
the rain
no longer sure
where it ended
and somewhere
between the two
a quiet
I didn’t need
to understand
just stand in
long enough
for it to notice
I was there
Life feels possible,
even in the rain.
Thanks to Livvyinthelife for the prompt for this, with the last 2 lines of this poem — in my opinion, the best two.ㅤ
For those who choose to go a little deeper
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and occasional paid-only pieces,
Everything I publish publicly stays public.
This is about making space for slower work, and for people who want to stay close to how it’s made.
If you’ve been hovering, this is a good moment to step in.
I’m always open to thoughtful writing collaborations.
Other prose and poems from me.
Nothing truly leaves — it just changes how it stays.
If something moved in you — a silence that whispered — I’d love to hear it below, or in my DM’s.
All artwork courtesy of NDjin Gallery
Stunning……my heart slowed a little 🫠
my hands
no longer sure
what they belonged to