Non-Erotic PoetryThunderstormA door slammed in the face is harsh
The wind blowing in from nowhere
Spring day turns stormy, no warning
Darkening into early night
Windows lashed, anticipating
Gale force assaults against the walls
Torrential rains, white hot lightning
Rage over passion's dying breath
Thunder roars and rattles the panes
Droplets splash against the clear glass
Light is fluid against the sky
Flickering harshly over tears
In the between I realize
Eyes closed, sun down, darkness the same
My heart beats erratically, still
In that rhythm you spun me to
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Very good
And very erotic, I think!
Awww!
Depending on who does the slamming harsh is hardly strong enough a term... If Molineux did so to me I don't know what I'd do!
THE ELEMENTS NEITHER OFFER OR ASK
for happenings involved in their tumults. TK U MLJ LV NV
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