Before The Storm

I saw the lightning
before there were any signs
of storm.

No thunder.
Just the quiet of wanting you
to come.

To feel your knees buckle
the moment you look away.

Your eyes don’t just see
they strike.

Slow.
Suddenly.

I don’t want distance.
I don’t want shelter.

If it’s danger,
just let me stand there.

If it’s love,
then move away from me.

Lightning doesn’t just strike
it obliterates.

The flash that lives in your eyes,
like it’s always been there,
alive and ready
to run wild.

Here, in your eye,
the quiet
is just before the storm.