My garden like a burden, slept silently in a void. She struck, a pleasant lightning, the slumber destroyed. My lips were a wasteland, my lovedrought was deep. My garden danced flaming, with thunders so sweet. A cyclone of healing, a medicine with winds. I spiraled with wonder, soaked up in spins. She rained on me faster, I drowned in her flood. My garden grew flowers, washed away my drought. I sparked, I loved, I lived in her warmth. Our fire was wild, it lasted a month. She came like a lightning, a shine and then gone. A volcano of feelings, a blast and then done. A graveyard of flowers, my garden grew mold. My bleak thunders rumbled, I crumbled in cold.