i am the rainmaker

people are always asking me
what it's like to be the rainmaker.

i tell them it's like
drinking salt water
until i am filled to the brim with it,
like a leaf weighed down by rainwater
just before it tips.

i tell them it's like
crying,
except the tears don't discriminate
between eyelids
and fingertips
and the pores of my skin.

i tell them it's like
collecting my tears
in bottles
and jars
and teacups
so that i have enough
to outlast the world.

i tell them this
and i hold my breath,
waiting for them to wonder
when i came to be here
or how,
or even just to ask about
my favorite book
or the color of my socks.

but all they ever want to know is
what it's like to be the rainmaker,
when the only thing
i want to tell them is,
"it's like wanting to know
what it's like
to be like
you."