if we could be world-shattering

we were born with 
thick sunsets 
syrupy, sticky, 
painting our hands
as we held them up to 
the setting sky

yes, we have lightning
flashing in our mouths, 
hear us speak
and watch us roar

with thunder
rumbling low in our veins, 
it thrums in our bones
and spreads so that
we are as awe-inspiring
as the earthquake
that topples dictators

and all of a sudden, 
we are dense waves
sweeping across the shore, 
crushing houses
with a careless watery fist

you see us coming, 
all swirling-dust and air-dirt, 
so we cradle the earth in our hands
and squeeze it close
until we are nothing 
but a cloud blotting out the horizon

twisting, turning, 
nobody claps for our dance
but we still throw our hands to the sky
in angry supplication 
because we are the
funnels that grab you by the ankles
and spin you until you can't breathe

just give us a chance
and you might regret it - 
corruption is often
higher than you think it is

so stop trying to chain us
because natural disasters aren't meant to be held back. 

The End

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