Let's find refuge
on the misty clouds,
above the downpour
away from the crowds,
muffled in the sheet of stars,
I'll ****** your skin
like shrouds of silk,
under the dim light
of the moon lampshade.
I look up at the falling rain
and think of your hair
entwined in my fingers,
gliding leisurely without a care.
Sweet belle I hope to god,
before it all,
each one there is,
or if there even is one,
you find home in me,
in the face of
every storm to come.