Storms inside my head
Rage without an end.
The wind attacks from all directions--
Attempts to strip from me
The little covering to which I cling.
Vicious, stinging raindrops
Are driven sideways by the wind
And assault my naked face.
Rumbling drumbeats of thunder
Creep ominously closer,
Heralds to the storm's mightiest weapon.
FLASH.
A brilliant spear of light is flung
From an unseen hand within the clouds
And strikes the earth.
My eyes are stricken also
And I stumble,
Robbed of precious sight.
Soaked, battered, and blinded,
I seek to uncork this storm--
Allow its wild fury to spread and disperse.
But its only outlet
Is a tiny pinhole of an opening,
And through this aperture
All that can fit--
Two simple words:
Miss you.

Life-giving rain.
Seeping through the soil,
Awaking a sleeping seed.
Roots spread,
A slender shoot stretches to the sky.

Thieving rain.
Cutting canyons in the earth,
Carrying away precious soil
With each drop.
Roots reach in vain,
Grasping nothing.

Murderous rain.
Stripping the seedling bare.
Where once was life and warmth,
Now silent
And cold.

The white cable-knit sweater
Does not hang on a mannequin
But drapes from a much more graceful frame.
The words "Dr. and Dr."
Are not lines on a page
But inflections of a rich, warm voice.
The piano keys move
Not under the influence of my fingers
But of ones much smaller and fairer.
You are everywhere--
In all the little things.
I cannot escape you.

Your gentle hand, it fits so well in mine
Though, by comparison, it is so small--
And when our fingers meet and intertwine
You take me as your prisoner, bound, enthralled.
Your smile, although its purest form so few
Will ever see, shines forth in blinding light--
And when it turns on me, I hope anew,
And for your heart once more renew my fight.
Your lips, they brush my skin like fairies' wings
And cause my racing heart to skip a beat--
They give me faith to trust in all the things
That your eyes say to mine, each time they meet.
Alas that cruel fate from me would ban
All three of these: your lips, your smile, your hand.

You can't make me:
Words heard oft from a child's lips.
How odd, then, that they would be
Rising from the depths
Of my core, my inner being.
In defiance they rise
To challenge what I understand
All too well, but flashing from my eyes
Is a refusal to be banned
Once more to wander outside your walls.
Think you that a simple command
Can cool the trails of heat left behind,
Marking every touch of your hand?
Although my protection may be your design,
Still my concern lingers on.
So do your best to make me disappear--
Use your tricks, every last one.
In the end you'll find I'm still here
Because I refuse to run,
And you can't make me.

Sprawled on the floor, patient.
It smells so good!
Cold nose on warm leg--
Nudge. Nudge. Nudge.
No response.
Rising up to bring face closer to face,
Eyes turned upward in full power.
At last, a morsel tossed down!
Snatched in midair,
Gone before it hits the floor.
So much work for one tiny bite!
Sink to the floor once more
And repeat.

It won't work, we said.
Just walk away, we said.
Life is stacked against us.
The odds just aren't in our favor.
Somewhere along the line,
My heart missed that memo.
It still turns over
Every time I see
You smile.