Less than 24 hours before you go,
I’m missing you already,
my tornado.
Grey clouds over a fishing boat,
we lay like elephants,
chained too close.
Something wild eloped.
Like the backwards view of coast
from a van
headed inland.
I”m missing you like smoke
I have yet to suspire.
The way we stay robed
well-past dawn
to read the billboards
as they cut on,
to watch the first petal drop off the rose.
I’m missing your depths
while standing in the shoals.
What lies ahead,
bleached coral reefs,
flooded streets,
high winds
and other storms
you leave exposed.
Like the memory of a scarf around the throat,
I miss you,
although you’re close.
©2024 | K.F. Hartless

Art: PeakPX
“Tormenta” by Current Joys


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