On Deaf Ears
I wonder, would I allow you to sleep.
Or bend you in the night like storm blown branches.
Arching until release is heard as thunders rumble.
Counter to lightnings strike.
Would a moment pass without a handful of you.
Complimenting lips taste and eyes bounty.
Swaying to music only we can set rhythms slide.
Even after the rugby red of burning flesh and needle pins.
Could I pause in inhale, or drive on to hear the storms moan once again.
No rest from the screen door pounding, when thunderstorm arrives with lustful winds.