You were calm and tempting
like the surface of the pond waiting to be rippled.
I could see your shimmer that lit my way,
like light before the thunder,
a spectacle that it is.
I flipped and flopped and walked and hopped,
I wanted to close the gap and dance.
So, I got high at your words and gestures,
and actions and choices,
whispering that maybe it's not as bad.
Now that the thunder has finally awakened me,
I realize that nothing shocks me anymore.
— So, it's a thunder. Aren't we all going to die some day?
I'll cease to exist this very minute of this very day, on your mere word.
But darling, I do have a final wish.
That I ripple your pond,
That I roar at your thunder itself.
So, maybe when I reach the 'There',
I would have reached as a woman who lived as a Doer.