jump you and tear off all those fucking
unnecessary clothes you’ve got on.
Oh God. Now I’ve become vulgar too.
Hormones, leave this body.
I break eye contact immediately and pretend to
be reading my book, but I can feel his eyes
inspecting me down to the bone.
Red with embarrassment, and my face feeling
hot, I turn outward, trying to distract myself with
what’s going on in the street. However, not much
is going on in Howth, we’re talking about a fishing
village where the highlight of the year is the fried
shrimp festival, but at least there are people
walking quickly in the rain and watching them is
calming for my nerves.
Passing a lot of time with Rain, I’ve learned not
to consider the rain as something so negative; I’d
almostsay I like it. I get lost counting the
raindrops hitting the window and I find myself
sighing, as if in a dream, imagining a different me,
a few months from now, intent on coming up with
names and colors to buy new little outfits in.
Happiness was just outside my window…
Someone turns up the volume on the stereo just
when the words seem to delicately caress my life.
But happiness—a little more like knocking …
On your door, and you just let it in.1
My hands fall unconsciously onto my abdomen
and I find myself hugging someone who is
growing and living inside of me.
