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.