the rain reminds me of so much change
I think of pennies making suicide leaps
into fountains
thunder is the sound
of God rearranging the furniture,
scraping the couch against the
hardwood floor
this year, I hear it like
I live in the apartment beneath his
but
in the warmth of your bed,
a quiet moment
blankets us
you rest your head against
the irregular pauses of my heartbeat:
footsteps going up the stairs
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