Beautiful Storm

Sometimes, there is such beauty in things that should be frightening, like lightning that flickers across the sky, drenching the night in flashes of color that wavers between lavender and white. The rain wraps the windows in wet, and it’s almost calming– as I sit by the window watching the storm reflect off neighboring windowpanes, I think of being soaked through, clothes clinging to skin like it belongs, body drinking in air of dissipating humidity. There is comfort in belonging, whether it is to the carpeted floor, the rain, or warm arms. Or to water, as it ebbs down the street, meandering and unbound.


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