while the lightning strikes

all those

nights that add up to months

that I spent at that

table in your room

crafting one love poem after another

waiting to escape for you

to read it once I was done

would you please talk

once I was back

from the visit to the other side

of the mountain

you twisted the knife

when you reminded me

how long it will be

until I lay eyes on you next

and I cannot think of a thing

I want more

I have to wait

and it is torture to know

those absolutely amazing eyes

full of electric kisses

and an embrace

that elevated me to the height

that my brain short circuits

and it was

hard to want

anything else

after that