| instead of running scared for shelter i will revel and rebel in storms � in truth i may remove my doors, rip out my windows, and invite impatient wind-swept hurricanes indoors to play havoc with my giddy senses. we will scream and riot in our passion, raise the roof to heaven�s heights and laugh outrageously at those who batten down the hatches in defense of captured air that does not breathe, can not move and has long forgotten that it used to party with the sky. instead of stripping to delight a lover�s gaze, i will start off naked then begin to dress, weaving fluid garments from the rain and glare of my exposure, slipping from his sight to dance with clouds and leave him holding swathes of empty air, while i make love, elsewhere ... with a tall tornado. |
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