She was a storm,
She raged around him,
tore everything apart,
but in the eye he felt nothing, saw nothing.
To him she was a gust,
a wild force,
like a mustang, tameable.
A weaker man would have run,
a stronger man would have known better.
But he stood in the façade of calm,
glistening in the sun,
never thinking that he was simply basking in her glory.
That the pretty thing on her arm was him.
That every exclusive invitation and perk was a courtesy to her.
And as she cut through with power so great he could not perceive it,
he was left behind.
Left with a placating smile for the woman he had saved,
left standing in the eye where he thought her world revolve around him.
Left too long,
and he was swept in the gale,
lost to the storm.