meteorological foreplay

Keep your sun-drenched days and well-oiled bodies.

When the wind rips limbs off trees.
Pushes cars across the highway.
Topples small buildings.
When the air is soft. warm. heavy. moist.
When wind can kill.
My body becomes slick, ripe, and tender.
My every breath charged with electricity.

When every breath holds bits of lightening and promises of chaos.
When the sky darkens. the clouds hang low. heavy. full,
with potential destruction.
and the possibility…
of
annihilation.
I wait,
breathless,
for the howl,
the scream,
the cry.
The hoursminutesmoments before the storm.
Meteorological foreplay.

Keep your sun-drenched days.
Screw your rainbows.
Fuck your flowery words. your soft music. your tender touch.
I wait for the storm.

Note: Please check out Nick Brandt’s photos. They are some of the most beautiful I’ve ever seen.