Just another page in her story,
He knew his chapter would soon end.
The reader would glance,
And then it was done.

He was there to help,
Build the larger story.
To lift her to her crescendo,
The supporting character,
That never made it as a hero.

But love isn't a fairytale,
People come and go.
Their stories once written,
Can never be forgotten.

They just bleed,
To a hidden world below.
The unheard secret coves,
Meant only for those lovers.

Good morning.
Perfect morning.
Serendipitous morning.

Eyes have just opened,
Phone's out of reach.
Not that it matters,
It's Saturday.

There's a slight taste of yesterday's alcohol in your mouth.
But you don't mind,
It reminds you of the night.

You lick your lips,
There's a smear of raspberry there.
You smile as you remember.

Her name is etched in your mind,
Like the name of teenage lovers,
Tattooed on their backs to battle forever.

You get up,
The sky's a brilliant orange.
You admire it from your window,
No sound of traffic, just the rustle of the leaves,
And the chirping of the birds.

Clementine, you whisper to no one in particular,
You can't help but smile every time you think of her.
She came a bit like a dream, and you lick your lips again,
Just to remind yourself it wasn't one.

You live for nights like these,
The ones to reminisce about.
The ones you wouldn't soon forget.
And you wouldn't forget her.

Clementine. She walked in like a song,
Not a love song, nor a prolific thought inspiring one.
More like that foot tapping beat stuck in the back of your head.
The one that refuses to leave your head no matter how hard you try, no matter how many other songs you listen to.

All you can think of is when would you meet her next?
Would it be an accidental shoulder brush,
Planned to perfection at the next party.
Or would you ask that friend for an introduction?

You're perfectly ruined because of Clementine,
And you don't even mind.
You wait for the night,
When you'll see her again, albeit in a dream.

Clementine...

I craved no sin on that tempest night, but the Algeas had their way. And hold me not accountable now, for the god of grief's ways.

She whispered the hymn,
In chorus,
As she's supposed to,
As she's told to.

The writing's on the wall,
The holy wall.
The only wall.

The new world didn't believe in boundaries,
In division.
The world was one, but the people two.
The educated and the broods.

She belonged to the unquestionables,
The holy few.
The god among men,
Who kept the world true.

She read the words again,
Silently. Remorsefully.
She didn't quite get the meaning.
She wasn't supposed to.

But to the world,
The holy world,
The brave new world,
She knew it all.
That's what they told her.

The ****** girl,
The daughter to love.
Meant only for him,
The god, the King.

For that's what it's said,
On the Holy wall,
That's what they told her,
She guessed she read it wrong.

"The game was over,
And they never met.
The friend and the lover,
A match never meant."

In the infinite universes where we exist, we've managed to find the one where we don't.

I tried that little lie,
Called living,
I tried the fallacy,
Of caring.

I tried to build,
A life alive,
I tried to see how,
People got high.

But all I found was,
Pain worth dimming.
All I found was,
Graves worth digging.

A smile that beckons,
A simple Hi.
A look so longing,
It makes you sigh.

But that I suppose,
Is a part of the feeling.
The simple step,
To being human

The sea is but a reflection of the sky, the sky thus sees only the sea.
For truer love is hard to find, than these two lovers that never meet.