Found in the Rain

I went walking yesterday with a friend I hadn't seen in years and we encountered a box. There was rain in it and books.

I opened to this page:

"I know why
your belly's soft,
because so many men
have pressed against it
and into it. [. . .]

I shove my life
. . . . . . . . . deep into yours
until the melting
and the melding
brings us both so close
that cross or crowbar
will remain unable
to divide us."

from and to each season . . . , Rod McKuen

Horror is all around us, waiting to be opened up and exposed to the air.