Lightning flashes, casting dancing shadows upon a bare bedroom wall. Countless raindrops tap lightly on a worn window-pane.

The sound of thunder echoes loudly as two dark figures writhe in an ancient but instinctive rhythm. Scented candles, rose petal-ladened sheets and an empty wine bottle may have sparked a fire that once was never there.

They seem oblivious to nature's omnipotent fury. Perhaps to be blindfolded; might also impair one's vision.

While chaotic energies rage beyond man-made walls, a quiet storm ensues within. Interlocking hands tighten and grasp with sweat moistened fingers. They begged for relief and found it in each other.

The muffled sound of two hearts pounding and racing together would make the sound of a summer storm; seem a mere whisper...