Sometimes I have to make my own small terror-whirl, fierce
cold pounding
in the shower, and
all I will do is lean back under it,
against
the wall, watching. Smiling. Did you know this water
thing can be dangerous? Did you know it becomes
addictive? Do you remember what I said about my rage?
I generally can't stand heat and your heat is
included in this. Do not stand near me and
you will not have to worry that I will spin in a furious
moment, lashing out windy and wild and mad. The only reason
I will wait for an August is I know the torrents will
come.
It's as simple as this: Can you say Release?
I will let something else do the crazy movement crashing.
I will have wind and I will have storm
and I will have rage scorn Freedom. I am remembering
once when we pretended we were going to melt;
scampering across the dripping streets, and how the
awnings could do nothing to stop us from exploding.
What have you done with your fury?