A lifetime of rain
has left our skins wet,
our clothes disintegrating
when we undress, if
we bother to undress
or simply fall into our beds
sleep claiming us
before our bodies still.
Someday the sun
might rise
and our skins will dry,
shrinking us down
to a size more manageable
than the bloated beings
we have become
simply by living as we live,
all the better
for the world to drown us
when the rains come again,
as they will.
as they always do,
the ending of everything
the only guarantee worth believing.
Edward Lee's poetry, short stories, non-fiction and photography have been published in magazines in Ireland, England and America, including The Stinging Fly, Skylight 47, Acumen, The Blue Nib and Poetry Wales. His play ‘Wall’ received a rehearsed reading as part of Druid Theatre’s Druid Debuts 2020.
He also makes musical noise under the names Ayahuasca Collective, Orson Carroll, Lego Figures Fighting, and Pale Blond Boy.
His blog/website can be found at https://edwardmlee.wordpress.com