Storm Poem #1-Unfinished Draft

clouds are forming
I feel you building

no retreat in this room

you loom over me
wrap around me

behind me
lighting whips
and cracks

light like leather
leaves white stripes
across my naked skin

travelling hands
my murmuring city
through my crowds
roving in the wetness of the storm

come inside
make yourself at home

I know where your stranger hands will be warm