Rain arrives before the clouds do
Soft footsteps on the roof
From someone you almost remember
The sky folds itself like a bedsheet
Tucks a corner into the horizon
And suddenly the morning feels
Like a room you’ve walked into twice
Puddles bloom in the hallway
Reflecting furniture that isn’t there
A chair made of yesterday’s thoughts
A lamp that glows with someone else’s Memory
Your coffee spirals upward in a thin Ribbon
Curling around your wrist
As if it’s trying to tell you
The ending of a story you haven’t begun
Outside
The trees sway in unison
Not with the wind
But with the rhythm of a dream
You forgot to finish last night
A raindrop taps the window
Splits into a tiny doorway
And for a moment you see yourself
Standing on the other side
Wondering which version of you
Woke up first
On this rainy Sunday
Time moves like a sleepwalker
Slow
Gentle
Slightly misplaced
And the world feels stitched together
With threads of water
Threads of dream
Threads of something you can’t name
But somehow understand