The fire of the storm

In the sky now twisted and broken

as he crackle of thunder forms.

Darkness hangs like spiders webs.

The heat of the water laden air

Ready to burst in a deluge

Like a waterfall.

The air conditioner

in the small room

Creaks and moans

In its impossible task.

My need for you aches

I am a dry sponge

You have the only water.

The window pane distorts

The city buildings.

Like a twisted hall of mirrors.

I turn to see you in the bed

Sleeping and content.

My needs are crescendoing

With the roar of the storm gods

I awaken you from slumber

Reaching for you wantanly

the cool air

at the front of the storm.

Can not soften my needs.

And in half shame

for my desire that is hotter

than the love I feel for you.

We embrace wildly

And I bury my face

into your breast.

Whispering

Come with me my love

Come with me

Into the fire of the storm.