Outside. Wave ringlets spread across
the surface of a city pond in the rain.
It’s so hard to tell exactly when
night falls in this weather.
Inked-in echo drawings spill on the fabric
that covers her skin. Inside. Symbolism
has no place on pajama bottoms.
With or without feet. Even ones worn
to school. Nomadic symbols travel through covered bridges to the beat of thunder
breaking overnight. They get soaked,
bleed into the soil, provide nutrients
for a roadside rain garden where petals only look black, only feel like velvet.
And it’s enough to tell another story
about unrequited love.