The rain, a steady trickle, washes out the heat that could have come today. I am waiting to get ready for a wedding. My role, the date. I try to blend in the backdrop, the odd gal out. Living life like a carnaval, I didn't notice I was the patron. I thought like my grandfather I was the carnie worker. See the callouses on my palms? The worn grey in the lining of my clothes? A panhandler of charm, it is my role to prove to you my acceptance. But I don't want to today. My heritage betrays me and today I want you to charm me.
(Reviewing all the unpublished prose. Guess this one is okay to go public).