Bedtime Story: Raindrops

…There are little raindrops on the window that I can hear; I have just brushed my teeth, combed my hair, washed my face, patted it dry, placed on moisturizer with my fingertips moving in little, soft circles, and I am all ready for bed. The raindrops sound more like pearls on a woman’s neck than raindrops, with true elegance. —Who said these are raindrops? My head is bowed in a higher dream. Maybe this is her…and she is choosing the window rather than the door.

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