‘I Do’ — a Prose-poem

Outside is bright with rain. Outside, the sun sets after rain. Outside, the sky is a dome of milk froth from the coffee machine just now — of grey feather, of blue chiffon. The world feels starker after this bright wash of rain. 

Rain like grain, like paint, streaks, strokes, slants the right window. I drive. I walk. I’ve got a flu and a semi-sprained ankle. I am reminded to pause. 

But I don’t, pause.

I walk. I drive. I coffee, and escalator, and sign, and reformer, and protein shake, and screen, and history homework, and soap, and sleep. 

But I can’t, sleep. 

Outside is bright with screen. I’m falling asleep to my heartbeat, deep in my right ear. The heart pulses. 

And it beats, on.