we're two storms colliding;
and my lips lie here, in safety and stillness
where yours meet mine;

kisses rush like ether,
like saltwater filling the lungs
and yet, curiously,
i breathe

right here in the eye.

maybe this is helen of troy crossing the aegean sea,
knowing all too well the risks.
maybe this is the start of the trojan war.
maybe this is a greek epic —
untold,
unwritten,
and dissolving in the shores.

and maybe i know all too well the risks.

but some time between
last night's first kiss and
the honesty and the silence of the early mornings

i have become the ocean before the storm
and you, the ocean after it.

and darling, would it be so bad to stay here for a while

in this fleeting safety in your arms,
in this fleeting safety of the calm?