The winds
carry away
your nightmares.
You sit up,
with the waters
of your fears
still traced upon
your face.

Your bed
is so small
your blankets
are tangled
with the devil
under you,
yet still so big
and cold that
your flesh is rising
and the waters
are freezing,
then melting
to mingle with
sweat,
then falling,
falling,
free falling.

Your chest stops
rising and crashing
like the earth during
a quake, instead tumbling
to the steady beat of
rain on your window pane.
Bending over the
cliff of mattress,
you grab the blankets
because in a quake,
we all need to hold
something.

Then,
your walls collapse
as you lose your
footing, and all
you know is that
it's raining.
The rain is
descending into
your bedroom.
And from dawn
till dusk,
the rain just keeps
on falling.
Falling,
falling,
always falling
when the ground shakes,
and yes,
you lose your footing.