A storm has come in,
the winds moving me in ways
only you should know.
The trees speak in their sign language,
branches bending low to
whip the thickness away from me.
And thunder comes,
speaking my mind for me
because you don't know my words yet.
It's a strange symbiosis -
this storm, the interpreter
of me for you.
Here it comes again,
beating against me,
demanding me to open for you.
I'm prying the petals away, my love,
as fast as I can.
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