THEY CALL ME MARY

Some people are in love with electricity

They want to be so close to the storm

That they feel the lightning crackling between their toes and rain dripping down their thighs,

They want to make love to the hurricane.

But I’m a different kind of storm-chaser

I don’t get high from the voltage when I walk into the tornado’s mouth.

I guess it’s just important for me to overcome

The world’s darkness by staring it in the face,

Not looking away,

Reaching out my hand,

Take it,

Refusing to howl.

Knowing I won’t blow away.