I want to find a place
I can hide out on rainy afternoons,
before rush hour clogs arteries,
all meat and potatoes.
A place to watch the river,
hear the rain slap leaves
until rivulets run like blood
from the sacrificial lambs.
Where ozone stings my nose
with each lightning strike.

I can taste the air, like words
on the tip of my tongue
never quite fully formed.
A place I can sneak out of
and no one will notice,
and I can wander home
like nothing has changed at all.