SoulReserve

Monsoon

We met in a storm
the skies were burning
bristling,
gray with rain;
We loved
through a whole season,
under the dented roofs
of unsteady houses
that seeped
and poured;
We smiled
through a whole season,
when lightening split
the sky,
angry clouds
gathered,
and trees fell
brittle, like weed;
We made it
through a whole season,
until it became calm
and, then we could see
each other’s face, hear
each other scream.

© SoulReserve 2016

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