Storm
the sky high above
is murky, and restless.
storm clouds hang so low,
it’s like i could touch them.
i reach out to touch them,
but my hand ends up on your cheek.
i can feel the rivers running
in your eyes and in your mind,
heart raggedly picking up pace.
i can feel it in your chest,
skin on skin—i want to touch it.
i reach out and run my hand through the clouds.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
