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By Echolocation Date: 2002 Jan 10 Comment on this Work [[2002.01.10.11.44.25755]] |
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There are times when she hates him When, if she could, she would wrench out from her memory Every sight, sound, smell, touch, taste That has anything to do with him She would tame her world so that there are No sharp edges No violent contrast of light and dark No changing skies or violent weather Just a constant mellow twilight Without challenge but also without fear Without passion but also without pain But then she remembers Lightning cracking the sky apart While thunder rolls down the valley The smell of ozone when a storm is coming The feeling of rain on her skin The taste of him on her lips And she knows she's just a storm-chaser at heart |