every raincloud a challenge, a
puddly smile

She knew.
Just as she always knew.
It was just a matter of
If her mind could hear
What her heart was saying.

He was avoiding her.
Because maybe he knew too.
And that scared the living **** out of him.

But those times they both stop knowing
And the ***** flowed
And the night brought mystery and possibilities
They let themselves know nothing
And they let themselves feel the fire
That both of them felt
For each other.
And the memory of that heat
Would stay with them
For weeks after
Like embers after the fire.

But at the end of the night
Through misty cognizance,
She remembered.
Her intuition kindly reminded her
What she already knew.

And she’d try to bring it up
And he’d pretend he had no idea what the hell she was talking about.
Embers always turn to ashes.

She’d shake her head
Walk away
And turn back
And he’d be looking too.
She’d think from across the room
“Just once,
I wish you’d surprise me.”

And as she walked out that door
He’d think to himself
“Me too”.

The paper was a bit shy and ***** from the past few years of neglect, nothing ever grew more alone and distant than the faded words of a poet unfinished.

"The cold light filled the night as a wolf cried out, the moons eye a ghostly dancer."

Now so it seemed such a sad thing that there was never to be an answer; time would be the master and the minutes forebode disaster.

But of course, never the light of day. Stuck forever to twilight haze it filled an eerie air.
I watched from this broken phrase all the while in a poets grave, rotting from abused paper.