I was quick to grab the dirty towels
I was writing a poem
'existenialism and spellcheck (in that order)'
I was sitting on the corner of my bed
my laptop perched on the window sill
my body at an angle
it starts to rain
I have a brilliant thought
I want to open my blinds
the streetfacing ones
I open my blinds
I pull on that cord and it trips a bucket of water
I am sitting in the middle of the rain
puddles gather around me
I am pulling my bed to the middle of the room
what is that noise?
I almost use a dress to gather the spill
I unplug my alarm clock
I pause
I leave my lamp plugged in
and the seashells and rocks on the window sill
I stand by the window
I'm standing in the middle of the rain
I close the blinds
the record player hums
I wonder how long it will rain
it stops raining
I smell my sheets
I'm romanticizing floods
wonder what I would contribute
and can't help but think
my dresses would make a pretty sail
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