I hope on nights
like this when you
are alone
You think of my long
black hair in wet tendrils
sheets drenched in vanilla
Lightning, the shape of my lips
(If you can remember)
and when the thunder comes,
followed by the soft static rain
your ears strain
for the sound of
my voice,
(If you can remember)
On nights like this
(C) brooke otto 2017
Goodnight.