The Babysitter

You never weatherproofed your roof,

and so I came,

with the rain,

falling unwelcome,

but essential,

dripping into your daydreams,

washing away the nights of low self esteem,

waiting in the gutter,

for you to need me again.

I dance in the damp,

to the sound of your thunder,

love for each striking stroke,

of lightning,

down my spine,

to a place you only know,

when we are alone,

dripping in desperation,

drowning in things

you know you should sail past.

I’ve leaked into your life,

drops of me in your dinner,

your children swim in my kindness.

We couldn’t pull ourselves from this whirlpool,

so we sink to the ocean beds,

paddling in deep, deep trouble.

I’ve counted the seconds your eyes explore me,

as you walk me home,

as you put up your umbrella,

drinking in one last look,

whispering something about silly little girls,

grumbling about getting a new babysitter,

but,

you never do,

you just return,

with a slight adjustment of your coat,

that covers too much,

and kiss me,

with restriction,

on the cheek,

making it clear,

you’ll let your home wash away,

in our flood.


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