My mother tells me<br />that when I meet someone I like,<br />I have to ask them three questions:<br /><br />1. what are you afraid of?<br />2. do you like dogs?<br />3. what do you do when it rains?<br /><br />of those three, she says the first one is the most important.<br />“They gotta be scared of something, baby. Everybody is. If they aren’t afraid of anything, then they don’t believe in anything, either.”I asked you what you were afraid of.<br />“spiders, mostly. being alone. little children, like, the ones who just learned how to push a kid over on the playground. oh and space. holy shit, space.” <br />I asked you if you liked dogs.<br />“I have three.”<br />I asked you what you do when it rains.<br />“sleep, mostly. sometimes I sit at the window and watch the rain droplets race. I make a shelter out of plastic in my backyard for all the stray animals; leave them food and a place to sleep.”<br />he smiled like he knew.<br />like his mom told him the same <br />thing.<br />“how about you?”<br /><br />me?<br />I’m scared of everything.<br />of the hole in the o-zone layer,<br />of the lady next door who never<br />smiles at her dog,<br />and especially of all the secrets <br />the government must be breaking<br />it’s back trying to keep from us.<br />I love dogs so much, you have no idea.<br />I sleep when it rains.<br />I want to tell everyone I love them.<br />I want to find every stray animal and bring them home.<br />I want to wake up in your hair<br />and make you shitty coffee<br />and kiss your neck<br />and draw silly stick figures of us.<br />I never want to ask anyone else<br />these questions<br />ever again.