the rain

the sky outside is melting,
right down into my bones.
they say trauma is held
right down into the muscle;
there’s women all over the world
and every one is ugly –
     uglier than a single sin
     with a neighbor boy in the rain.
we don’t talk about trauma
in the bones or the muscles
when the sky outside is melting.

Soapbox Artist: collecting art & literature of the worst kind