weather patterns
The voices in my head are screaming
“kiss her, kiss her”
but my nerves are shot and my muscles
are locked in place
i think my desire for her is evaporating
by the second
but much like liquid they gather into a
cloud above us
and oh thunderstorms and hurricanes
would visit us
when my lips finally collide with hers in a
flash of lightning.
Quite possibly inspired by queerindeed’s post.
