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Don't speak to me of raindrops 

"Why do I have to imagine this?"

Rain hitting the metal roof of the doublewide

(A redwood branch could fall down in this wind)

(Crush us in an instant)

In the mirror I am washing my face

(so familiar)

What if I wasn't here
wasn't looking in the mirror
wasn't washing

It's night

The house is quiet

They are sleeping in their beds
(just like this)

or awakened by the rain on the roof
he would see the same wind as me
but I would not be here

The house would be quiet

They would be sleeping

My face would not be in the mirror washed

They would be sleeping

The house is quiet

"Don't speak to me like raindrops,"
he says to me

(I imagine him saying to me)

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About The Author

Stephanie Silvia

Stephanie Silva directed her own modern dance company in New York City and is a student of American poet Diane di Prima. She teaches movement and writing.

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