The sky doesn’t ask before it opens.
It just leans in and lets go.
I stand inside it,
let it blur the edges of me
until I stop trying
to hold my shape so tightly.
Everything sounds farther away
when it rains.
Even names I don’t
say out loud anymore
There is a comfort in that.
Not peace, exactly,
but something close enough
that I stop correcting it.
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