Gentle Storm

The way you move in the wind

Your hair whirling out tornadoes

Your lips, whistling

Your skin enveloping me

Like a gentle breeze

Your eyes

Are the centre

Of a gentle storm

Author: Jack Bennett

Born and raised in Torquay, England. 22 years old. Teeming with thoughts that need an outlet, working a full time job at his local supermarket. Unfortunately born a poet, he will most likely suffer from this contradiction most of his life.

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