Storm
the sky high above
is murky, and restless.
storm clouds hang so low,
it’s like i could touch them.
i reach out to touch them,
but my hand ends up on your cheek.
i can feel the rivers running
in your eyes and in your mind,
heart raggedly picking up pace.
i can feel it in your chest,
skin on skin—i want to touch it.
i reach out and run my hand through the clouds.
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