You cause thoughts like summer storms;
Sudden drench to bone,
Then burn as the sun comes back out,
Reminding me I’m alive.
To sink deep into.
Let me die a little death,
With them inside me.
She traced her fingers over her lips,
To feel if he was still there.
You fill my thoughts;
But not sated.
Why does the sound of rain,
Make me think of you,
And the lines of your body.
The contour of her waist,
A crescent moon to wish upon.
And he was the untamed sea,
Powerless to her invisible pull.
I trailed my fingers through your thoughts,
And let them drip onto my page.
Each splash a word filled with you.