the storms gathering just beyond the shore,
the sweeping violent tides that are oblivious
to flesh and our fragile ties.
I can see the clouds reaching,
joining one another like disfigured
lonely hands and limbs
finally finding a home.
The way such gatherings perfectly merge
together often makes me wonder
if nature imitates us or if we are
merely the ones mirroring such cycles.
Sleep, my love, because if this true,
we are even more temporary than we know,
but in the minute slivers of moments we are allowed here,
we can be the other’s half.
I will be the rain and you
will be the thirsty earth
below the graying sky,
you can be the bellowing thunder
and I the jagged blue white lightning
streaking in sync with your ancient roar.
The way such elements entwine
tell me that whether we mirror
the world’s endlessly turning gears
or are the reflections of one another
We can sleep away the storms, my love,
our bodies becoming warm cocoons sheltering us
from the sweeping violent cycles
that will never find and sever our ties.
