My arms are shiny with droplets of rainwater.  I do not wish to wipe them dry with a towel.  My belly and brow are covered too and I want them to stay that way.  I want the rain and my skin to be one.

the rain beat  upon my naked breast in the night.  each drop was a blow against the confusion inside.  Each little percussive moment was a brother, cousin, spirit, lover, grandparent come to remind me, yet again, of what I am.

the rain beats upon me and I lean toward purity.  It beats upon me and I am pure.

even though I am self-conscious and not sure of what to do, the voice of the rain sings to me loudly and tells me to stay a little while.

so i stay.

and staying i remember that i danced.  so i danced again for moments.

i open my arms to the heavens so that i may stop collapsing in on myself.

i let the rain beat upon my chest, my brow.

I am sorry that the neighbour’s porch light is on and illuminating the night.  I am sorry that i have a public job that makes me self-conscious, because I am not embarrassed.

i am not embarrassed because this is is who i am.

i am a dancer.

i am naked.

in the night.

in the rain.