You spoke of stars,
of incomprehensible numbers.
Of the world, so big,
with people so small.
And I joined in,
laying a perfect descant
above a lustful melody.
We laughed bitterly
about Fate's clichéd cruelty,
you with your
partner
and me with my
plane ticket.
But our laughs complemented each other
flawlessly,
and when my flitting treble
was joined by your playful bass,
the world grew understanding
and I could breathe
a sigh
of relief.
Ocean's surface showed only
tragedy's timing,
but to ourselves we allowed
a sweet smile,
a secret.
Surely Fate,
though Heartache's mistress,
would reform her ways.
Just for us.
For two who never knew they were only
puzzle pieces
until they found
how supernaturally they fit.
Behind our worried eyes
we kept silent the thought
neither of us
truly doubted– that
we
would be Fate's
exception.
And Fate giggled
in the dark, daring us
to try to defy her,
waiting for the opportunity
to prove us wrong.
And with our feet in the sand,
our eyes to the sea,
we heard her
cold mirth,
an empty soprano
brought in with the waves.
Scared, we left.
Gave up beaches for concrete.
Hand in hand, until the memory
of Fate
invaded clumsily. And,
not wanting to anger her,
we refused her
the opportunity
by
never
trying
to defy.
Why is everything real in my life so utterly trite?