Your lips smacked and startled
              the saints as you slithered
out of your sundress. What was that expression
              on your face: desire, deceit? Each
hair of my shape edged to your blood
              rush like lightning
rods to your sharp breaths; I took
              your hair in my fist, and pressed
the side of your waist curiously, who was that
              hissing singsong? This was when I caught
you momentarily: this was when you were most
              physical: this was when our pulse jarred together like
muted screams spun inside a loom: this was
              how I robed a typhoon.

I observe the mannerisms of calamity through the window, astutely, as skylines and streetlights disappear. I see your faint reflection dispersed inside raindrops, your chest rising and falling, weightless as whispers in the mouth of a storm. I hear thunders in your sound-asleep. I cannot somprehend. Isee the wind tear a cloud apart, deliciously - just because.