Another gray trip to a small town.
At the bus stop:
an abandoned bicycle,
trembling in the rain,
waiting for someone,
who never came.

The coughing crowd,
getting on and off,
headed for the unknown.
Actors carrying
heavy bags of ugly food.

Out of the corner
of an invisible eye
snatches of words
drifting into a wrinkled world—
not the first, vivid green,
but the tired lettuce,
expired bananas—
a symbol of unreachable luxury.

Casual dialogues about angels and demons,
atheists and spiritual needs.
Random people battered by reality
rolling out a red carpet for their thoughts,
spoken aloud in the indifferent air,
small talk about kicking life—
an existential fight to survive.

The game downloaded
by an unfair fate.
Something put him, her, them
on this wrong level,
an extreme mode
the deepest discomfort.

Unfair purpose of pain.
For many,
not being loved is an aching way,
for others,
the lack of bread.

The multiple truths
closed in one small drop
of a rainy day without a name.

I glimpse the past in pink sands
shells crushed by time
once shelters from the storm
now reduced to souvenirs
in man's blown glass bottles

Decisions are made,
in dark alleys and back halls.
Best to watch your back.

When I witnessed a rare fragility of the rain unbecoming—pouring its madness, tears following the wind that brings me to a place where I knew I witnessed an unfortunate crime, an absence of an absolute evil—cruel crime I would not be able to forget; the great tragedy of what was once.

It was all I saw.
It was all I felt.
It was all I knew.

The comfort and the gruesome thought of being a witness to it all—to the chaos, the fraudulent rage of the supposed love I knew; until I became a victim of it.

…and the absence of my answered prayer turned to basking in idiotic romantic fantasies I had built. All that interested me was the world I created inside this big rotten head of mine.

What an unfortunate time to be a witness in an unfortunate crime called: the absence of love.

While odd things create reality, dreams do come true, a bittersweet goodbye turns to a sweet return. All I know is once in a while, there comes an absence. How do I return the sparks back?