A Hurricane

Watch the colours drain from you when you emerge from the
shallow waters of the stagnant pool we both lay in.
Shakes of shock - had you really been lying next to me all this
time?
But remember, it was you who had violently grabbed my arm in
the dark,
Desperately hoping that I would understand and not toss you
gently back into the black waters.
That forged connection: charged by the same fuel and fuelled by
the same charge.
How wondrous, how exotic. How typical.
You told me you already held the arm of another who lay longer,
closer and nearer to you.
An arm which I am bruised by repeatedly and relentlessly.
But listen, child.
I live by chances and shun regret.
You live by regret and shun chances.
So look out now.
A hurricane is coming.