A Storm of Our Own

Stay

Stay, until thunder passes, until the rain shuts off.

Stay in bed, and tell me stories.

Speak to me about the time you climbed a tree and broke an arm.

You couldn’t ride your bike for a whole month. Kids would mock you and leave you behind.

Were you sad then, love?

You say you weren’t, but you tighten your grip on me and smell my hair.

And then, just as I knew it would happen, you seek comfort in me.

We are kissing now. We are making love now.

The thunder is long gone, but we are busy with each other, not thinking about broken arms, not remembering old bikes.

There’s a storm above us, and we dance in it, until sunshine drags us away into reality.