Love is like a
lightning bolt,
curling her long fingers,
broken,
shaky,
uncertain,
toward fate.
She strikes you,
and your world
is set ablaze.
Everything is so
bright,
but only for a moment.
And if you survive it,
you just might
spend your whole life
searching for something
as bright
to light up your world again.
It is unlikely
to be struck
by lightning twice,
so hold it's brightness in the corner of your mind,
tuck that electric feeling away,
so that you might call upon it
when the world feels
dark and empty.
She is lightning.
She is love.
