CategoryVerse

Hand-picked blackberries,
zested lemon, sprig of thyme,
let’s make a botanical brew
for me and you.
Thunder cracks, jumps the sky,
rolls above us like a pair of die.
Keep the rocks cold and garnish fresh,
because there’s no way of telling
when the storm will end just yet.

The sky stared back at me last night; the stars' sporadic stare were that of a spider.