Sodden in driving rain,
watching our lives
bobbing on the water
while the colour-drained city
shivers backwards;
the two of us lamenting the sins
we never committed at all.
But you outdo me
having made this place your own;
ducking with the waterfowl
into the city’s murk,
claiming no part of it,
and always happiest
when the rain’s flaying.
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