Dear my soulmate,
If you want me
You must want mother earth
You must want the tears that fall
Like a soft drizzle
You must tolerate the way
My mind and soul
Can be a hectic tornado
That cannot be stopped
You must savor the tsunami of love
I'll give you
Because darling...
If you can handle my natural disasters
With your hand in mine
Then get ready
But cause my sun will shine just for you
Even if the clouds are in the way
I'll peek out
Because I know you want all of me
Because I will have watched you from above
Take on my storm
Head on
Love,
Sophia
YOU ARE READING
The Petrichor
PoetryPetrichor / pe trīkôr / noun a pleasant smell that frequently accompanies the first rain after a long period of warm, dry weather. Dry heat Suffocating humidity The harassing thoughts In this long period I'm tore down Until... The first rain. And...
