Rain knows which windows leak, which children are waiting to jump into puddles, which commuters forgot umbrellas, which trees have been thirsty
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Rain knows which windows leak, which children are waiting to jump into puddles, which commuters forgot umbrellas, which trees have been thirsty for weeks. Rain knows how cities smell before they become
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The last bench knows who forgot their homework, who drew galaxies behind the timetable, who watched rain instead of equations, who whispered “I don’t understand” too softly for the teacher to hear.
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I keep a feather between pages twenty-two and twenty-three, not because it is rare, but because I found it on the afternoon I finally stopped being angry. I keep a train ticket
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