I thought love was a storm.
When it’ll arrive, it’ll leave the doors open.
It’ll let the rain in and would leave me sleepless.
But love was the calm after the storm.
When it arrived, it helped me close the doors,
It kept me warm, keeping the rain away
And was the blanket I needed in that cold moonless night.
It helped me sleep.
It arrived with a pen, giving me the space to invent words,
And was blue in color.
At least was, when I last saw it.