Swollen Belly Blues

The August heat was melting the sidewalk:
Sun, fully risen, destroying the day.
I walked pregnant past Nihonbashi
Dragon Kirin Statues
Getting lost on my way to work,.
Frozen pocari sweat, from Family Mart icebox
Held against neck, barely cutting into 
The unrelenting hotness.
Mirrored glass buildings
Shimmered reflecting heat from
Pools collecting on the baked ground and 
Then the heavens opened:
Bucketed down gallons of warm
Water that turned to cold on my skin,
Typhoon deluge.
Plastic 100 yen umbrella useless
Against a storm that belonged over
Bamboo forests yet exploded over Tokyo
At unexpected velocity. 
I was soaked to the bone.
Hair wet, maternity dress sodden
Underwear sopping, bra clinging
To my uncomfortable body,
Bag soaked. I tried to find a 
Pack of tissues - the free ones
That are given out at train stations
By bored young men with superglue
Smiles, and teams of young women
With idol dreams written across 
Painted eyelids promising freedom
And Louis Vuitton handbags, 
But the tissues were soaked too
And still the rain kept coming down
In sheets and deluge
In devil-may-care-uncontrollable
Tides of water, as I stopped running
Wondering if running led to drier
Or wetter conclusions
And bedraggled headed into
Takashimaya department store
With 5000 yen in my pocket
Not enough to get into dry
Clothes, trying to dry myself
Off a little in the bathroom
And failing.
A good umbrella cost 7000 yen
A tube of concealer 2000.
I still needed to eat.
I gave up and walked back out
Into the storm and cried
Unnecessary tears 
Washed away into the river
Hobbled by hormones
Make up washed away 
From eyes blackened
Lip busted, 
Swollen six months
Baby kicking angrily
In a belly that had swallowed
Every single lie
About love that it had 
Ever been fed. 

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