"Go Ahead, Spit" by Leslie Anne Mcilroy

The wind is everywhereunstoppable, unhung.Doors banging, shuttersif you have them, the treesweak with bending, breaking,bark and sticks amiss.And we are walking through itas if it is natural to bow your headto an unseeable force, as if godwere here with us, hinting at whathe might do if we don't behave.He is gusty with power, smug.I try to skip and my legs are twigs.You try to kiss me and get a mouthfull of hair. The sun's skin is chafedand the moon's craters wornwith hyper erosion. The starscan't even constellate.What is the point of trying?All caught up in our tornado,spinning stupid like pinwheels,we open our mouths in aweand the bees fly in. Even angerneeds a place to hide.