Monsoon Season

Hot damp heat

Heavy, humid, treacle


By the seismic roars

Of angry grey titans

Exploding above.


Sky ignited by the tectonic clashes

Of celestial fists,

My windowpane trembles

And I bask in the echoed promise

Of heaven-beamed discord.


If you look hard enough

You can almost see

Zeus and Atlas

Waging their unending war.


On the balcony, lush, crisp, gusts

Dispel the swollen furnace

Of the afternoon,

Aerating my veins

Pelting the pores of my skin

With that eternal rhythm

  • Lifeblood, h20.



A violent, brief reminder

That change is constant

Life is everywhere

And we are as much

A part of it

As it, a part of us.


They tell you you’ll

Get sick

Dancing in the rain.

Perhaps you will,

Perhaps in the best way possible.

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