Amorak Huey

To Empty Myself Upon This Earth Like the Clouds

It’s raining but eventually it won’t be.
Not raining but eventually it will.
Tempted, I walk outside
one grey, wet step after another,
following hunger. Someone
recently told me not everyone
longs like this. Can’t imagine.
Each cloud contains the pulse
of the stars behind it. There is only
one cloud, obscuring only all,
backlit by the moon. Always
I wear this raincoat of desire
and ash. You are so far away.

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