The Storm

The rain falls to the ground.
A sight, this night.
Do you see it?
As the drops fall like tears from my eyes.
Do you feel it?
As the drops crash into the puddles like heart beats.
Do you smell it?
Fresh and clean. Blank and new.
Does the same wind blow against your face?
Soft, like love’s first kiss.
Or intense, like love’s first passion.
A storm on the horizon.
But its location unknown.
Do we share tonight’s sky?
Will the storm crash on to the shore?
Or will it die before it does damage?
Because I want damage.
I want the crash.
I want to see the eye of the storm.