You say I am a hurricane
I storm into your calm.
It’s okay though
because you like it.

I shed my clothes in the sweltering heat.
Your warm is my oven
running around like I do
while you bask with your gadgets.

You tell me to sit
taking care of business before
the lovemaking begins.

I sweat in your stillness.

You tell me a story.
“I don’t know why I bought this.”
A bauble from yesteryear –
for the future which is now.

“Please take care of this. Like glass
(like my heart) it is fragile.
Please don’t break it,” you whisper.

My heart slows, my body cools.
The hurricane passes
I will cherish your (lucent red) heart.

Your stillness is my anchor.