OSI: Miss

Where I come from it storms with passion.
With the storm comes an invisible hand.
Its lusty, rough caress
tousles all the rain and brushes
the tops of our lives
till the land itself gasps
at the violent, life bringing love.

An unpredictable lover,
it will turn in an offhand way,
and miss the missing;
knock all the world aside,
and turn gasps to tears,
life to loss.
Then return with love,
uncaring of response.

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