That's exactly what you are: a typhoon.
Shaking the branches of the trees in our minds, our beliefs questioned and challenged... Not everyone can take it.
You shook me.
I was glad to shed some leaves and make room for new ones. It was always a breath of fresh air when you were around, accompanied by a whirlwind of information, criticism and advice. Sometimes you're not very nice. But you are generous, in both action and reaction, words and emotions,
your empathy enchanted me.
You came in a moment. Then another. Then one more. Bodies ruffled, clothes shed.
I was your typhoon.
The force of nature that you are and the air sign creature I've become matched in ways unexpected, changing the atmosphere we inhabited. Maybe it was intoxicating. Maybe it needed time to set...
Hearts were exposed too soon. Tree trunks ruffled instead of leaves. Roots uplifted for analysis made the trees lose their control, their balance.
Then, just as soon as she came, she left.
Here I sit, watching the last breath of her typhoon blow-dance the leaves broken off my tree of beliefs, my tree of knowledge scattered on the ground. I don't have to courage to rake them just yet. Let them sit for bit, yellow and orange tears of the dream that could have been you and I.
Just as quickly as she came, she left, bathed in sunlight, in sunset.
Goodbye, little typhoon.
I hope someday you'll remember me.
