The light floods across your skin like it owns you.
Taking over your dark spaces like I never could.
Somewhere lurked a pattern that I didn’t find until it was too late..
The storm came in, thrashing all of our windows,
wetting our curtains
and extending its hands around our throats..
“You’re not exactly a great welcoming party,” it yelled.
Your hair fell out of place and struck your cheek.
You cracked a smile and I stared, wondering if I could love you.
If I should love you.
We’re always chasing something that we have no right to own.