You came like weather, unwarned,

The hush before the sky breaks open.

I was walking straight lines,

When you turned the wind toward me.
Your eyes - not thunder,

but the silence that comes after.
I never planned 
to be undone by a glance,

To feel my pulse trip over a laugh

I hadn’t heard before.

What spell is this,

to make me crave the touch
 of someone I never knew I needed?
Now, I wait for the storm.

I breathe your name like oxygen,

Taste the ache of almosts and maybes.
A longing that curls itself
around every whispered moment.

A whirlwind I welcome,

even as it tears me open,

just to let your light in.