The Storm Front:

There is a 35% chance of rain tomorrow
Can you stand it
Would you?
Will you?
If I asked you to dance with me
In it
Would the want be there?
My heart
On this sleeve
Is bleeding
Begging for reason
To beat
Plea-bargaining with my soul
“Speak up!”
But it refuses
It stays mute
Fearful
Of your furrowed brow
So I stay quiet
Secretly submitting myself
To this
Denial
My love is strong
My will
Iron clad
But how can you argue with
A marble statue
Which resembles the memory
Of the man
I know once loved
But now
Just wakes
And breaths
And sleeps
Yet has lost the want to dream
The nerve to feel
No longer the need
To grab life and love by the balls
Consumed
All the while unconscious
To human touch
This keypad is more stimulated
By me
Than he
So I ask myself
What now?