Storm

Please
don’t saddle me
with your polite company and chit chat ripples on the surface

I
would rather die
than live a life as weakly as the insulated chorus

What will it take to gather
your bursting hearts and souls prismatic?
we’ll grapple with the dreams that matter
pull them back from heaven to the earth

Unrelenting unrelenting
crusades against the automatic
wills on fire and painting spattered
music sleeting wrath and shining mirth

Please
don’t hesitate
we’re fading aging embers in a hearth that’s unprotected from the rain

And as thunder lacks duration
we must become the storm itself
if we are to outlast circumstance and reap the wealth of precious youth again

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