The tyrant clouds bellow outside the building
my eyes had yet not caught them
but my bones rattle and vibrate
portending the doom that will soon shower me

Yet you packed my groceries
as you have done before
yesterday, yesterday's yesterday,
and yesterday's yesterday's yesterday

Your body is a memory
reflecting every trace of your existence
Your eyebrows are down
they're as dark and impending as the clouds outside

Your lips pursed
imprisoning the voice that would woo me
Your eyes downcast
holding that stare that would scare these clouds away

I could tell you a thousand things
and tell you a hundred of those
that you make me step outside
and face the storm

But I'll never talk to you
I don't know when your break is
because I don't work here
even though I wish I could

But then you'll be different
you'll be changed
a separate memory
unalike the one I used to see

Just let me hand to you
the yogurt and Dentastix
and you'd chuck them
inside the crunchy paper bag

The cashier will never know
of us and this experience
She will hand me the money
while I take my heart back from you

All of this
I mean all of this
will be washed and flooded away
and I know I'll be swallowed

by the flood of the great clouds
and I don't know when I'll come back
I just want to see you
when you're about to give me one last look

I'd return them
squeezing every second
wishing I could stare at you
until the flood dries out and the grass grows green

But by then your body
your eyes, your eyebrows
your lips would become another memory
I would still like to see them