The storm

I was once in a city of skinny people and lights that shown pretty.

You were there, the rain in the clouds, brooding, like a cranky kettle.

The flashes tapped and danced in the distances of space that span out far beyond you and me.

The electric tension was deafening.

A hush... and then...

A crick splinter of a banging sound broke my ears into pieces before I had time to figure out why.

Then you melted like wax through the clouds.  Froze up like a million drops of dead batteries.

Your army marching to gravity's orders.  Left, right, left.

The glamour of the night dimmed as you fell into it's arms.

A slim man teetered on the walkway, slithering in his wingtips.  Your poison clanked and pinged off of a tall drink of milk.  Her hair made of steel and shaped like a sports car.

All around me was chaos.  Chaos raced up Panic Street, hung a left on Braceyourself.  The flowers on the lamp posts split apart like shards of ice.

I stood in it all.  Arms raised.  Eyes open to the daggers of you.  I let you dig in to my soul, dig in with your ways.  

My clothes, the sheltered parts of me, burned off in the fumes.

I was naked.

I was reborn.