Our sunset neared during peak midsummer,

Danced in the rain but fled at the thunder.

Storms always gather, smothered your sky,

Vanished ‘til my rivers run themselves dry.

 

Sunlight’s sweetest when daytime’s fleeting,

Sealed my fate in moonlight meetings.

I chased your winds, caught empty clouds,

Lived for storms never lived to warn about.

 

Hurricanes, tempests tailwind my fears,

Blew you away but grounded me here.

Rose from ashes to all that you scorn,

Scars on our backs, yet growing new thorns.

 

Do you, too, wonder if flowers could bloom

If they survived the flood of our monsoon?

If they could sprout, held together by string,

Would they still grow if we’d never see spring?

 

When tides pull away and rises the moon,

Would we have conviction to finally choose?

A peaceful grievance tomorrow morn,

Or wait forever for the perfect storm?

​

— 22/08/2020