beauty, love, lust, poetry, sex

The Beautiful Storm

You know me

Well enough

To know that I 

Don’t play games

Whilst also

Being playful

Mercurial in

My understanding


As I crush you with


Pressed against me

Unable to 

Move but finding

Freedom in the force

Of my direction

I offer freely

But the cost is this:

Hold nothing back

Test me and 

Find how I handle

The storm that you are

An ocean that believes

Itself a puddle

I call on you

Soak me in your

Warm, beautiful rain

Blow sweet storms

That toss me skywards

I land, get up and

Roar for you to




You are not 

A joke to me

Although i laugh

With you

Kissing and stroking

The giggles

Into silences

Then sighs




You curled around me

The sweet babble of

Being drunk on


You whisper

‘I am the storm’

And I tell you

‘The most beautiful, divine

Of them all’


2 thoughts on “The Beautiful Storm

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