in shades of sweat pant gray and
office tile white
promise rain to my dry, dry Earth.
The ants have been doing their rain dance for days,
twigs like tiny stilts the building blocks to their effigies.
I have been wrapping rainbows around my wrists,
sculpting the scavenging ground into beautiful lakes to
attract the clouds,
tell them there is room enough on this gregarious field
for earth and water.
I wait every night for the sea to spit my husband out,
undigested and handsome.
I like to straddle the dry lake bed,
the navy sea,
and wait for gifts from ether and water.