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Passionate clouds expose their juicy silhouettes,
(it’s just rain! it’s just pain! it’s just vain!)
causing horizon to blush, sun to turn pale,
children to float across rainbows;
thunderstorm, thunderstorm – please blow
me a kiss from your electrified,
tumbling, sky dancing, lightning tongue.

Snapshot flash zaps through dark twilight;
cold whispers flourish, leaving me disoriented:
Dreams swirl together with leaves, twigs,
virgin soil, heaven’s wrath and hell’s ambition,
rushing and pushing into a whirlpool gutter –
timeless matter that becomes death’s soul.

Drowning in melancholy puddles, gasping
for a second chance to please her, I caught
a final glimpse: her cascading hair hurried
behind a sunray; love, despite its scarcity,
is an elegant landscape to hold onto if you can.