My Midsummer Rainstorm
Loving him is like
Being in love with a
Midsummer rainstorm-
He's got a soul born of thunder
And lightning-
Got caught up in his whirlwind, spinnin'
Into the circle of his arms-
Dazedly-
But he always looked so- calm-
Didn't he?
The eyes of a storm always do;
But when you get close enough to
Hear the wind-blown
Whisper of his sigh,
You'll feel the energy swirling
Under the surface of his skin
Like fireworks
All ready to burst into shimmer-
White-hot sparks
Burn in the dark-cloud shadow
Of his smiling eyes-
Like hurricane warnings flashing
Between hot and cold- like
Thunderbolts and fury of a downpour
Sudden enough to leave you gasping-
You get swept away before
You have time to get a good grasp
On your heart...
Loving him is like that.
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