​How it feels to be graced with such powerful sentiments;

Sweet in scent, but not innocent.

There’s a crack in the sky, and the heavens are torn.

Ozone in the air can foretell of a storm.

This one not of chaos or pain, but the release from a strain.

“Relax” and “let go”, she tells me again.

As the lightening let’s out another thunderous cry

I explain with all of my lungs from atop a lighthouse, on high,

“Ma bichette! Ma bichette!

What have you done to my chest?

Like an overflown levy you are flooding my heart!”

Cracking from pressure; this sensation’s so sharp.

Cutting away my restraints I cannot help but leak out

Affirmations of pleasure and unrelinquished doubts.

I roar while writhing in rapture this torrential exclamation.

“Enfin, elle est venue! Mon douce libération!”

10 April 2017