Storm Dancer by Stephen Jarrell Williams

Soaking in the tub, hot water holding her still
Eyes closed, relaxing within the rising steam
Listening to the tapping of the outside rain
She’s floating

Rising slowly until she stands, slick wet
Candles flickering around the rim of the tub
She reaches up and unlocks a high window
Letting it in

Wind and rain spraying her face and breasts with cold
Awakening back to what she wants but won’t admit
Candle flames twisting into the teasing shadows
Her deep sighs

She swishes a foot through the heated water remembering
Closes the window wishing someone would grab her
Pull her out into the storm where she could act surprised
Lightning illuminating her

Rain dancing until the morning drips from her bed
Candles melted and bent like a line of finished lovers
Memories lasting long enough and hard enough
Until the next storm.

Stephen Jarrell Williams loves to write in the middle of the night with a grin and grimace and flame in his heart. He is the editor of Dead Snakes at deadsnakes.blogspot.com