Storm | a poem

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.

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
Are delicate flesh for me to taste.

Leaves sweep up delicacies,
delicious diamonds you've left behind, but
Are more than that.

Wind waltzes on walls of concrete, but you
Are found in the ground below streets,
underneath society's belly.

Are everything.


Popular posts from this blog

Socks | poem

Weak One | poem

Dark December | poem