Tempestuous

What of our tempestuous love?
In its irksome cage, beating tirelessly against constraints of the mind.
It relishes its chance to be free, to wrench from grips so non-lenient, to fly upwards in a great surge of wind, beating wings that dazzle white through the grime..
Oh, but what of our tempestuous love?

6 thoughts on “Tempestuous

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