top of page
After the Rain
What is the taste of a thunderstorm?
The wet underbelly of a cloud
Like the metallic bite of a quarter
The violet rain of mechanoreception
Or the neon sounds of 1:00 a.m. in Chinatown
Life
Living
The smell of wet tears
My hand resting passively in the small of my dog’s back
After the Rain: Work
bottom of page