Bruises

The monsoon persisted, unphased by us finally docking.
But it couldn’t keep your attention
Though it frightened you.

I put my palm on the glass and stared into the yard
at our sinking ship
and remembered that time we were
naked and drunk
in the basin
of the shower
after all that digging.

The tub filled up
My lungs filled up
And thank god it’s over.

I used to hate the rain.