it makes sense now, you
being born during hurricane season:
the way your eyes melted
into clouds,
the way you spoke in rain,
the way you tore apart the ground
beneath my feet
(you made it look graceful, though).
you were my life’s greatest
metaphor,
and you’ve left me
looking for explanations
in every corner.
baby, you’re the first hurricane of 2015. // a.s.m
Silenticel 