Tornado

Starts out slow

Just a rustle in the breeze

Then the power starts to grow 

And it consumes her need

Branches swaying

Bushes laying

Down to the ground where they're pressed to caress the dirt

Stronger the wind billows 

Whooshing  past with such energy it nearly knocks her over

Clobbered by the turmoil to see the outcome of the storm

Facing the gusts

Breathing in the violent conflict 

Between head and heart

Know and think

Logic and intuition 

Bullied up against the fence of decision waiting for his faking face to show up 

It never does

Wreckage of lost attention is left behind with sign pointing to the should and would and could 

Except for the thrill 

She lives for the thrill 

A.C.