I only hope
that the storms stay for one more night –
the quiet tip-tap turning
to roaring and pounding then
back to tip-tap again.

I only dream
of rain drops speckled on the shoulders
that lean so comfortably into me,
hair clinging to the sides of your face
in the same paths that I would
draw my fingers down again and again.

I only wish
that when the storm lifts
the moon is shining full
upon curves now glistening
in the blueish light.
The secure rise and fall of breath –
the peace of being that sits
before the next beautiful storm.