The rain lives with me in my house. The rain is a cat. I am afraid the rain is going to sit on my face at night and kill me. I am ready for you, I tell the rain. I sleep with a knife. The rain looks at me and licks itself.
There was a knock at the door. It was the rain. I said Come in. The rain came in. The rain was an old woman. She was blind. I helped her to a chair. Why are you always moving? I asked her. Why don’t you stay in one place? That’s how my mother was, she said. And that’s how her mother was.
The rain in me bows to the rain in you.