Storm Over My Skin

I’ve worn the storm over my skin—
vibrant, red.
Lightning from my tongue
forming electric, magnetic thoughts.

Stars in my eyes,
under halos of gold.

I placed my heart before you—
let it drip scarlet.

Alive, the key between my teeth,
kiss me, I pleaded.

Slip off the bandages from my wounds—
pink, but mostly healed.

Scratch the surface of my mind
with your language; speak.

I’ve been there with you too,
swimming in water,
coming up for air
when you do.

Your intelligence changed me—
and I will never be without gratitude for it.

I am consumed,

all claret and rose,
missing you.

© 2025 Raven | Jasmine on the Grave. All rights reserved.

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