On nights like these, when the air is heavy with the smell of rain, I long for you.

I long for you like the earth longs for rain, for the cold, wet touch on its warm skin, its open sores. I can almost taste you on the tip of my tongue, in the curl of my feet, in the shiver down my spine that ends in a little knot of longing in the small of my back. I wait, for unsaid words to burst from your mouth, caressing me, drowning me, like the rain that pours down on my face, my neck, my arms, my legs.

There’s a storm in my heart, and I wait.