Mysterious storms come and go at my windows. I won’t guess what they bring but I admire their glow while enveloping my silhouette in the depth of leaded humid cloud. They are my only lovers and visit me often. I enjoy their power they share generously.
I can’t seems to concentrate anymore lately or construct stories like I used to. Sensations fling into my body without order or discipline they come and go as they please like the storms at my window. In the distance I see a ship floating in the iridescent horizon sandwiched between the blue gray double patterns. It is passing by unaware of my stare, but I know the storms feel me and see me, it is nursing me back to my nonsenses, my beautiful absurdity.