The Flood

A poem of passion and destruction, love and reconstruction

Climbing the ladder waterfall of your breathing,
I scale upward through torrents of emotion.

There is no dam, no time to prepare
the trembling rumble of foundations and limbs.

You flood the gaits of my city and wash over everything
open mouthed, tongues lost to the cresting waves.

Silence

The waters recede.

There is destruction, then laughter
for the wells are once again filled.

Tomorrow we will rebuild!