Post the Sixty-Fifth or Love like Hurricane

His love is like a hurricane

All fire and fury

Honest in its intensity

And inexorable in its execution

A hurricane

The roaring gale force winds ripping away all those thoughts

That do me harm

The rising waves washing me clean

With cold salt water and brine

Of those conceits that blind me

From seeing beauty

The torrential pounding rain changing the landscape

Of my skin

So that scars become sublime

And stretch marks become exalted

The crashing flashes of lightning

Lighting

Those dark slumbering places

And I am electrified

My skin tingling in anticipation of his touch

 My body ridged with the thrill of his hand on my thigh

My body aching with white hot fire for his lips upon mine

The calm serenity of the eye

Reflecting me back to myself

And I rejoice

For what I have is legendary

And you would give all of this up?

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About witchymorgan

I'm a 22 year old womanist, sex positive, pansexual, polyamorous, queer, bruja, transwoman. Social justice activist by day, social justice activist by night. Fun! View all posts by witchymorgan

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