storms

i could have and was more controversial than i ever ever am. it sure is hot.
i wish the storms would come and blow rain through the window.
there’s always a window
, and i like that billowing light white curtains look-like naked thighs when the storm begins.

hello vixen across the hall, i love you
, hello
is that thunder please?

i miss the clacking-slap and flamm-bash.
never did i know what we were doing either, but i knew your tone and intonation.
how’s it working for you since
, are the droplets swathing in with your wordly storm onto our skins my corsetted vixen across the fall?

 

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