Hurricane Hanna Leaves Her Boys Behind

(Rainfall I)

here they come.

itinerant footsteps
come pattering
in a one, two,
three, four, left,
two, three, four

drizzle.

toe(s) tap(s)
out(s) the rhythm
of the night,
alighting, marauding

leaves with
their hot,
lugubrious sweat.

it’s been a
long journey.

all they want
is a fuck

pair of warm arms.

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