I got caught in a thunderstorm
and thought about the way our bodies move
through the sky and fall to the earth just like that.
Sometimes the lightning burns through some branches
before it gets here.
Our hot wood glows
and becomes the only light.
When the lightning hits my body
I am bright light along with it.
I am exhale only.
And it gives you
all the shine of a lighthouse
piercing through the darkness.
The lightning’s voice
is the opposite of it’s body.
It never slips through my fingers.
I never even try to catch it
I am only ever caught inside of it
Like the way my heart is always caught calling
from the inside of my chest.
I can feel it in my eyes blinking towards you after sleep.
I hope I am not mistaken if I hear the thunder when you speak.
I tend to fall apart in downpours.
Maybe one day I’ll learn how to hold the pieces together.
But I don’t think we're there yet.
Now, the drizzle slowly frees me
from the dirt caked on to the sides of my ribs cage
and stuck at the back of my throat.
Soon I’ll be able to breath all the way easy.