It Is Raining Somewhere

It is raining somewhere.
The thought of it sticks.
It is raining somewhere
and love makes me sick.

It is sleeping, this love,
I remember when it was
wide awake for years and
how the rain was like our

love, treacherous like a
throat slit, like the spell
of witchery, like a hole

six feet down, like a coffin.
It is raining somewhere
because my bones ache.