Saturday, December 21, 2024

The storm-chaser

 

Love crushes you,

Consumes you,

It feasts upon you,

Dances on your head in wild revelry,

You become a stage

for its foot-tapping partying,

Its heels stomp on your chest,

Thump, Thump, Thump,

Your heart beats to its tunes,

Your soul sings to its composition,

Your eyes see its colors,

Your nose smells its fragrance,

Your fingers touch its curves,

Your tongue tastes its nectar.

 

It’s almost like a possessing entity,

Something that descends upon you,

Shaping you at its whims and fancies,

It’s not you,

It’s above and beyond you,

You realize it when it drops its spell,

leaving you like a garden

lynched on a storm’s path.

 

It’s a tasty addiction,

You are deshaped and deflated

once it abandons you,

You then hanker after the same shape,

You become a storm-chaser,

You run after another storm

to be jostled, pushed, pulled, ruffled,

Hoping you will get a fresh shape,

you allow yourself

to be hammered on the anvil.

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