When the storm comes, my compass always points to your arms,

Outstretched like wings on the water,

Making oceans out of puddles.

Belly distended, you engorged on daily bread

And said that means you are a prophet.

The wisdom imparted slaughters my brain cells—

Sounding as logical as television static,

Broken antenna disconnects reception—

Stuck in rotation—

My door revolves around letting you in just for you to leave me when the skies swell with rage—

You come out from among the shadows while I have been without light for days.

The generator ran out of fumes,

I lost all energy to care—

It was better to sit in your favorite living room chair,

Watching another place I called home burst into flames because I kept the candle burning too long.

I stopped looking at the clock as the hours passed with the sick sense our dalliance was DOA—

Defibrillation efforts be damned,

The moment I call the time,

It is truly over.