two drivellings, a week apart, here together courtesy of the weather.
The soap ran down the windows
in the force of the torrent.
Mine were clean to the eye, I thought,
but not in truth.
It took an outburst
to show the residue left behind
(a clinging film)
Did it affect my view?
Can't see. Can't focus. Can't think.
Casual office talk of heartbreak-not-mine
that cuts me to the core.
I wish for a film, a skin,
a permeable membrane
to protect me from impingement
...but which would let the missing elements in.
A downpour, and a thunder canon.
* * *
The thunder between us
A cityscape apart; we're blue sparks in the ether
But the rolling sound
travels between, unfurls across.
An aural connection;
We hear it together.