You came to earth with your own resources,
Proving the prophet’s promise that we all are provided for.
When asked to draw a person in the rain,
Your lips twist,
Your tongue working as hard as your hand.
You push the Bic across the legal pad
As the clock counts down to your big reveal.
With a flourish comes your girl,
Standing strong on fat high heels,
Protected by a palm leaf big as the horizon,
Held aloft by her unwavering, right-angled arm.
Rain falls like arrows in a Hollywood battle.
Her face, untouched, is smiling.