i remember there was a thunderstorm that night
those flickering candles and the scent of the rain
something more intense was happening inside
on that old couch in the backyard studio
with paint on your hands you were painting me right
eyes closed, lips locked, i could feel each stroke
of your scrappy fingertips on my thighs
the sky roared furiously and so did you
waking up the demons that had long died
i wanted more; both you and the storm
i wanted just some more time