When the Wet of Things Becomes Normal
Her coat on the day we found out
My coat as the first person she told
Your jumper where her head rested awhile
The endless tissues
The pillows at night, the back of her hand
The drip in her ear, in recline, that turned sound to surround
Cold cheeks from evaporation on a winter's day
Her beautiful gathered eyelashes, dark
Her hair for longer than usual
The resistance of a blink to avoid a chill in public
The world through water lenses
The relief of the rain