Storm’s Embrace

Winds rage,
and rain lashes window frames.
You stand enveloped by the grey.
Peonies crash to the grass
like bloodstains on a page;
bursting like hearts
in the emptiness of space.
You can taste the ozone
like the storm’s breath
after a warm embrace.
It’s currents hold you,
but even you can escape.
You just have no desire to give chase.

But, Storms do not stay,
and the remnants of the flowers
leave behind red stains.
You’re left empty handed
with the sun in your face,
and the steamy scent of asphalt
ruining the taste
of the rain that fell into your
open mouth and
tore your mask away.


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