what if this storm ends?

all my infinite rolls of endless, extravagant poetry imploded into hollow verses when i met you.

effortless lines of imagined emotions collapsed into deafening white noise when you touched the base of my throat and in numbing fluorescence you conjured lightning and wild cloudburst

within the confines of my ribcage.

you left me with a throat full of empty scribbles and lungs parched with the absence of the tempest.

there’s a storm in your fingertips.

Originally published at mirroredblack.wordpress.com on May 25, 2016.