Storm | a poem
You Are a rainy afternoon, heavy and warm. Your droplets are diamonds, decorating my reality, blinding beauty. The weight of you Is exquisite. Fixated, you stand over me, sprinkling gems into my mouth and cleansing me. (There's purity in the dirtiest earth.) In the flightless bird that roams below, I feel the swell of your shadow. You Are dry ground, steady stone to walk around, piles of pumice and globs of granite, feeding fantasy with slate. Fire feasts on deserts and waste, but You Are delicate flesh for me to taste. Leaves sweep up delicacies, delicious diamonds you've left behind, but You Are more than that. Wind waltzes on walls of concrete, but you Are found in the ground below streets, underneath society's belly. You Are everything.