overcast

i once met a man

whose soul dripped


from his fingertips 

like water.

and one time,


he spilled it
 all over my lap.

i didn’t 
know what to do,

so i turned him 
away.

whenever 
i hear the faucet 
leak,

or feel 
the tears run
 down my face,

i think of him,

his overcast soul

and how i should
 have

given him
 a towel.