Your presence is ethereal.
I heard your voice but I had never heard your voice.
You haunted me. Oh memory I never experienced that was ever so familiar.
It was quiet and black and white and grey.
And the music was quiet at first but came in like a floodgate.
The silent clatter of keys on a piano were like a soft warm summer rain.
And as I played that became deeper and deeper as the drops turned from little flecks dusting my skin to luscious drops to waves….
in these puddles and tides I saw your ghost.
Flashes of a half hiding face with bitten lipped smiles.
Of an arm stretched out to dance and then a spin into a great…
a
Fuck you.
Two words started everything
and ended everything
or...
both
Fuck me?
Fuck you!
I was in love and didn't realize it.
And so were you.
Fuck you!
The rise
Fuck you!
The fall
Summer was over
I hoped we weren't too
Another day
Another year older
Another
Another
Fuck you
I liked you too.
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Oh but a lady never tells... everything m'dear :) Names are rarely relevant (though this star eyed pair have...)
Absence of color.
Sparks.
But one shade of something "fake" yet so real it makes you...
something something.
This will probably make little sense beyond nonsense to... but if in the know, and well, you will know if you are, it will land on a chord that few know how to play. Fore Cinderella's Mr. Midnight clothed himself in a fasade that nothing matters...
Always put together.
Always wearing that same nonuniform.
Always going to that same bar.
Always. Always. Always.
Routines.
Entrances.
Exits.
When he arrive