An Agreement

"I wanna dance I wanna just wrap my legs around you like those rings are round the moon. Lemme press my mouth against you like the rain against the glass it's see-through."

--Jayne Ann Phillips, "Accidents"

The rain is cradled
in flower pots and gullies,
its song heavy
on the carport and awnings,
its movement laughter.
I watch from a distance,
and you stand closer
than what is comfortable
without being near.
Say, "I want out,"
say you're tired of sand
"scratching the paint
on my car" and the stone
from which it came.
Say you long for clean,
dry places, high and green,
not the browns and creams
of counted days, stillness
hanging in air and on glass.
Our eyes meet not often enough,
our muddy soles abandoned
outside not laying tracks
reminding me you were once here,
not letting me forget
how it feels to run
barefoot in the rain
away from ringed street lights,
towards the comfortable
silence of the sun.

--Jannette Giles