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Perfect Storm


Perfect Storm

Rolling in the clouds of my sleep's sky,
we are lightening bolts that connect,
charging our auras with electricity.

We merge,
and our skin rains
as the winds begin to howl
from our throats.

Thunder cracks,
our last shelters fall
and we as forces of nature collide,
creating the perfect storm.

February 13, 2003
Tressa Lee Breen

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