outside a sudden summer storm comes to life with a fury to match the malevolent hear that has baked the land for days and days

i let my own lost mind rage along with the winds my hurt darken the sky my loss fall down my scruffy cheeks like the raindrops

does the storm strike out of hatred or need and is there any difference in that one focused moment of intense passion

long after the storm dissipated outside the one indoors continues unabated with no signs of slowing or stopping or easing at all

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