Rain

Surrounded by a growing city of stacked cardboard boxes, I’m pretzeled on the sofa, staring out the window, watching it pour. I had to do this, start building this city of boxes, I cry my heart out to the storm-wet streets and weeping trees, not because I wanted to find someone else, but because I needed to find myself.  And maybe that sounds more like selfish than salvation. But the streets and trees, bearing witness to my many a tearful walk, know better.

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