POETRY
Reading Job in Riverside
A poem.
The rain. Your breathing. My heart beating. Someplace warm.
Our laughter built cathedrals in a storm.
Stares a bit too long. Looks a bit too rare. Just say the word — and I can’t meet you there.
Don’t know if you remember, but I do, reading Job in Riverside next to you.
I couldn't meet you then, but now, what I’d give to know what you’ve been up to.
