the lovely storm is passed. is past. a drowning, a lightning strike and a police riot passed this week. and i'm thinking like the divorce, trying to grasp what is, just beyond, like i'm still too small to reach it, like you'll never understand, the world is beyond you, just a kid, like my spirit animal death, release, called back, echo like decades and centuries of domination and conquest, and paradise within loss—where nothing is past and all is passing, the passing events, the body remembers what the mind attempts to forget, all the things pushed past the eventual horizon, come back in a moment, in the oncoming storm, like the one that left, unique, and the body knows it, passing it body to body, ecstasy and lightning, and the aftereffects coming on. the sky lightens, then the thunder rolls over and through the light. the lovely storm is coming, the lovely storm is passing, the lovely storm is past.