love

July 1, 2010

love

one day we sat and watched a patient parade full of people with nowhere to go.  you waved a flag and those thoroughbred thoughts you were always so proud of and said, these are the kind of people who never leave this place.

the only reason i knew there was loathing hidden behind your eyes is because i had already learned how to read your voice. 

you leaned back to watch your dreams tessellate into such lovely patterns in the air: i’m not going to be like that.  your eyes drifted and decided to focus on the sky, and then you were watching the clouds as if scrying for the future. 

i wondered what you saw up there, but i was too afraid to ask.

i could never handle bad news. 

amidst all the others with rigid, black-tie-formal faces, your two eyes were like matchboxes and your smile was like the fire: beautiful and rogue and dangerous only to those who came too close to putting it out. 

i tried a vanishing act, but you laughed at me because, as usual, it didn’t work. 

i want this to last forever, you lied. 

there was never actually a place for me in your starry sky, anyway; i suppose i would have held you back, like gravity. 

goodbye, you said.

“goodbye,” i said.

the parade was still passing as you left. 

with a sad smile, i watched you fade away, watched what was left of the people who kept walking and walking but had nowhere to go, and tried in vain to differentiate myself from the rest of that faceless crowd.