I had this dream once (in the way that you dream of things, not in the way you dream about things) that I would be able to find my own way, that I would be able to shape the world around me into something beautiful, a rogue aesthete
in my own right, doing the work that others could or would not.
I wait for the thunderheads
, the static
on my skin
and the smell of ozone
. I work magic in an urban rain dance
, splashing dirty puddle water
on hurried pedestrians
who crouch and dash from doorway to doorway, not realizing that they are already wet.