Please Let Me Into Your Storm
written by: Marinda Kotze
The wind tousled your auburn curls. You shielded your hazel eyes from the low rays of the sun and led me to a bench under an oak tree.
I wanted to tell you then, but an ice-cream seller rang his bell at us. Russet leaves crunched under the wheels of his cart as he passed us by.
Then you started to talk about how you met someone new. Not a boyfriend, yet. Perhaps someone you could care about in a few months. If he were still around.
Lucky for you, I have always been love’s fool. You call me a great listener.
A gust of wind flipped the hem of your skirt over. You didn’t smooth it back in place right away. The new guy is a guitarist in a folk-rock band.
I traced the contours of your knees and the smooth arcs of your thighs with a glance. I imagined how soft they would feel under the tips of my burning fingers.
The sun faded behind a cloud. You paused, tilted your head, and looked past me. I opened my mouth to say what I’d been meaning to tell you, but you stood up and told me that you had to go—we’ll chat soon.
The wind whipped up ochre and umber leaves and twirled them through the trees. The first droplets of rain started to fall, and my heart slowly turned to rust.
- Please Let Me Into Your Storm - June 9, 2026
- Sacrificial Lamb - June 26, 2025
