Electric Reverie

Your eyes break the world in half,  

light slicing sky into trembling pieces.  

I watch the night hold its breath,  

its silence heavy, louder than chaos.  

Each glance sparks against my ribcage,  

a flicker, a defiant crack of longing.  

The storm arrives without permission,  

filling the air between us with charge.  

I am a powerless kite in the surge,  

suspended by the pulse of your gaze.  

The thunder hums, low and relentless,  

crawling under my fragile, waiting skin.  

Rain won’t come—only this electric ache,  

a drought I cannot shake or drown.  

Yet still I stay, parched and praying,  

for the flood of you to unravel me.