**** sonnets
she screamed, half awake,, raspy broken chords
**** mistletoe
He responded, barely breathing, words are a chore

**** surrender
She moaned, lonely against the canvas of silver and gold
**** alarm clocks
He smirked, craving the fabric and minutes to unfold

**** ghosts
She whispered to the abrupt emptiness of 4 in the morning
**** stairwells
He mumbled to the steps that tripped without warning

**** forever
she breathed, breathless against the waves of waterfalls
**** sidewalks
He admitted as he wandered aimlessly appalled

**** flowers
she scowled at the precipice of tomorrow
**** candles
He gritted at the concept of unrequited sorrow

**** Thursday
she exclaimed at the notion of fresh beer blossom gardens
**** July
He exhaled against the women who dressed without pardon

**** Twitter
she tweeted three nights deprived of sleep
**** Xanax
he stumbled five Klonopin deep

**** stars
she wished with a mouth of cigarettes and strangers
**** memories
he insisted accompanied by potions and danger

*******
She would have laughed against the midnight canvas
**** me
He would have crafted versus the twilight lanterns