Signed, Your Hurricane.
You can’t miss what you never had.
My eyelids crumble all around me, like ancient walls
that struggled to stand in the first place.
It has been so very nice to kiss you—
I dissolve into a dream.
First, there was endless open space;
there you were,
brilliant and vibrant
against the infinite white
extending in all directions—
the world was radio static against
your symphony. I crackled and crunched
out of key
hoping you might hear me,
hear how hard I had been struggling to get through to you
but I was drowning, strangled by my own power lines—
White, white, white, white
making spirals around your body;
your eyes, like angel-blue sunshine,
dripping sweet fire drops in a circle ‘round my feet,
burnt me up and taught me to ascend on the plumes
of Lover’s smoke.
The ghost of something electric overtook you,
and you were swallowed by the white, white noise.
My heart ached like the ocean—
Only your sands could bring the swell.
Your softness drenched me. My toes, wrapped around the edge
of total ecstasy— To be intoxicated with your tenderness
was everything I had been too cautious to imagine—
The endless white space was infected with technicolor kisses,
the smiles I had never seen before, and your eyes
(God, your eyes, your eyes, your eyes, your eyes)
clawing at my lips like a revelation.
Danika, bring me to your mouth and you will taste
the sweet serum of your breath, your delicate body electric—
You will taste what it means to cross the threshold,
to be one with the tide, the push and pull, the give and take,
hand to hand, my lips to yours—
If you look in my windows, I’ll unlock the door.
There’s a way you look at me sometimes;
it isn’t love, or lust, but a curiosity.
It has been 5 years since I first loved you—
I wade through white space and impenetrable color,
relentless seas and deafening noise.
I can’t help but try to make you understand.
I can’t help but keep on going—
Like a hurricane that somehow
fell in love