it rains every saturday.
at exactly ten-thirty.
they say i must know what's going on.
it rains every saturday
like some uncountered mystery.
i dance in the rain.
the spinning is lovely.

all around,
the gutters flow with their blood.
not a sound,
they hide away beneath the mud.
someone told me
that's the way the story goes.

i am my mother's child.
i am neither bright nor wild.
i could not give a name
to the song in my head that's playing.
i am the grand-daughter demon.
i am ragged, uneven.
i whisper enchantment along
while the others are praying.

it rains every saturday,
at exactly ten-thirty.
they say if it won't stop,
they'll have me burning.
It rains every saturday
like some uncharted fantasy.
i drink down the rain.
the freezing is ecstasy.

all around,
they whisper at me as i pass
not a sound,
i tread as light as weathered glass.
mother told me
that's the way the story ends.

i am a windchild
i am drunken and defiled
when i screamed in my sleep they circled around me and laughed
i am a raindancer i am a necromancer i only talk to the dead
because they don't accuse me of witchcraft.

it rains every saturday
at exactly ten-thirty.
they say that i know what's going on.
it rains every saturday
like some unspoken history
i'd dance in the rain
but i'd fall down dizzy.
©1999 tea