So we come rushing back to the fate of the carnal.
This is also set in Ireland, a long time ago.
It's called "Exposure".
Rain, you said, is silence turned up high.
It has been raining, now, for days.
Even when it stops, there is still
the sound of rain water laboring to find
some way into the ground.
We lie in grim embrace, these two halves trying to be whole,
straining for this break in the static,
in the white noise that was rain falling all day and all
through the sheeted night.
Silence is rain with the sound turned down,
and I stare out now on a clear view of something left out
on the line.
A life, snagged there, drenched, shrunken, unrecognizably mine.