standing out in the rain.

if i were a colour i'd be a grey cobalt blue. a dusty, forgotten colour that somebody might trip over and say, "well i forgot that was there, silly me!"

i would be a fox with a pixie face, triangular and only beautiful if you stare at it long enough.

i would be a thunderstorm whistling through windows.

i would be the smoke of burning pine wood. it's dangerous, dear, polluting with a delicious beauty somewhere mixed in it so it makes you breathe, breathe it even when your lungs cry out.

i would be a cold touch of fingertips on his back, questioning, commanding, demanding.

silencing.



my hands smell like chlorine, and the last time i even thought about the pools was the last time i felt silenced.