The air itself expands
in baited breath of anticipation-
I can feel the thunder
humming promises in my bones.
Tremble now, my darling,
baptism comes before the sanctity.

Bogged down, the oppression
of your humidity
crushes the hope of moonrise.
One night, and I
seize, constrain, reject
my heavenly flight.

fold my body
a temple making
channel for the storm

It is much easier to fall, you say.
Would I, that I could pretend
you might catch me at the bottom.