The drop of rain
Trickling down your blushing cheek
Could easily be mistaken for a tear.
“Don’t worry if the shoes don’t fit,
You’ll grow into them” you said
But what if the shoes I’m stepping into
Are growing as well?
Swelling up and stretching
As they absorb the puddles around me
And now my ankles are wet too
And the streetlights are shimmering
And bouncing off the thick watery skin of the world
And the more I focus on them
The more it seems like the raindrops
Are slipping morously from
your open eyes.
Agitation of hands. Strength of words. 
i love this poem — i’ve never lived through a moment like the one described, but it makes me feel as if i have.
Thanks Howard.
That’s a really lovely thing to say.