the art of loving you

thirty two.

you were a hurricane,
a calm center
surrounded by a deadly storm.

she was the aurora borealis,
a beautiful light show
of a million brilliant colors.

and me?
i was but a star,
burning and dying,
watching as the two of you
closed in on both my sides.

will she hate me?
you asked.
will she hate me?
she asked.
i don't know, i don't know.

do you love me?
you asked.
do you love me?
she asked.
i...