Thunder booms then rumble into
nausea ripping through my belly
Lightning is almost ready
to leave the house
mulling before a blouse

Barefoot in a nettle spread
I am walking to your supposed love
and tiptoeing on a tight rope
towards your home
Until I reach your door and as you groan
thunder drums a heavy pattern nearby
Inspire me to stubbornly
crack eggshells on your doorstep