i am addict to the electrics of thunderstorm cleansing

when all control gives way and impulse heartbeat hot, thick blood

reigns on high with zero nod to


out the window leaping careening if only I could fly

and render myself to the

storm then I would burst

and shatter

into a million brilliant

daggers of


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treasure the epiphanies in marvelous wonders of miniscule and infinite proportions

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shaded greens whisper gradually tongues of silhouetted daylight crouch like gossiping maids and cronies beneath the gentle foliage i bend to test the smell of earth dewy, musty, fertile crops of moss