If I could brew thunder

in my lungs,

I’d drown you with a

storm of words

My lightning would singe

the very center of you-

leaving eyes dark.

If I could

whip the wind against

your back,

leaving you standing

stung and stinging,

I would.

There would be no end

to the storm swirling in my

chest

You’d never have a moment

to prepare or recover.

If I could,

I probably wouldn’t.

As I see you’ve already

conjured up your own

perfect storm.