Fathom

You don't say
anything
I can hear.
The window is closed
and rain falls like books from shelves
in an earthquake: I read
into each flat splat
as though the sound left
a hole too deep to fathom.

I don't even know what that means.
Do you?
I'd ask
but you don't hear anything I can say
the hole is too deep to hear
anything from the bottom
so every rain drop that ever lived
could pour in and pour in and pour in
never filling it
we could read about it in books
the forever rain in the bottomless hole
like love
unrequited.