Beneath a soft green wall of rain,
the rain deep in my hair
I have a tear-making body,
the knowledge that my body can make tears —
it takes me a mile deep in the earth
With the eels,
and where all is hushed
as the soft hearts of hanging tomatoes.
I feel for the tuberose bone in my wrist,
and find that it is only bone there —
nothing more.
It was something else
that I was feeling for