Perfection of a Storm
Nov 8 · 1 min read

Standing silent in the center of a storm.
Rained upon. Blown about.
Mists and winds in the air deform.
It starts to pass at last.
Leaving you with soft sunshine then slightly soggy feet.
Rainbow colors start to greet.
Some parts of me feel washed away but still not okay,
other fragments are strong and stable.
A feeling of unable, as the bit messy, is still repressing me.
Beneath my feet a pattern forms of a cleansed earth,
rising up from the…


