You’re a storm. But you’re mine. I adore you for that.I’ve been thinking about this all morning. I am a hurricane, we both know that. So what are you? What is strong enough to stand against a storm? What will always welcome it back, even when all it is is destructive?
I’m sorry but thank you
You don’t have to be sorry! It’s a compliment I wouldn’t want you to be anything else.
if I’m a storm, what does that make you? One of the crazy guys who chase storms with large metal antenna around lightning?
hahah I suppose that’s for you to decide
Who are you? You are heat. You are strength in every sense of the word. You are the way the summer dries off the grass. You are the way the sun always warms the earth after the ice queen drips tears all over. You are the sun that the girls lie in for the perfect skin. You are what I tilt my head toward like a flower. You make me grow, reaching my hands out for you.
You are heat, sometimes almost too hot. You burn my skin and I stay out in you for hours regardless. The trail of your fingers over my skin leaves me sunkissed and pink, and it’s worth the burns afterwards. You are sun seeping through my skin. You are summer’s air, staying light past evening and staying dark only for a heartbeat every night. You are passion and bliss.
You are what heals the earth after the rain. You connect with the storms in a way that causes life instead of death, like creating poetry instead of ripped pages. You chase the clouds out of my sky and create a world worth living in; a world that can survive the downpour.
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