Sunset of a Storm Cloud

There's an ache in my throat

so deep like a cavern.

A neon green urge for

something familiar;

it feels like the pause after a

round of belly laughter,

where you're left empty and panting and

wanting more.

My memories from childhood are so vibrant,

the blues more pronounced and the smells

ten times louder,

the sticky sweetness of ice cream dripped

down my fingers

before I learned to wipe it away with a napkin.

The sun was yellow and the wings were red,

I spoke loudly and meant what I said.

I thought the world was graying,

color draining,

patience fraying,

until I met

you.

And you picked up your lovely paintbrush

and made a sunset of a storm cloud.

You reminded me that I could be loud.

- Leanna Florez