I can tell you that touching you makes me shiver. It's like sometimes when I try to speak I choke on the words as if an ocean I keep in my throat- an abode for the Poseidon in your midst.
Stay with me like cataclysm with a sinner, lie to me; I'm made of cardboard and tape, I can take it.
Your soft tsunamis of tongue, a voice like thunderclaps, you could make Zeus blush- a blinding fire shut behind his eyelids, and an earthquake in every touch.
They tell stories and call you apocalyptic, but to me you're just the hiss of the snake keeping guard to what he thinks he should be protecting.