Two hurt souls with a hope to find tranquility, two lost souls torn and wasted, restricting them selves form falling for cupids temptations, souls attracted by their similarities in spite of the odds, desperate to find a way out, to find a soul mate that would rescue them from eternal solitude, they find eachother with an intense force and passion so desperate causing impact at the slightest touch, they evolve into a storm moving the skies violently without a care for destiny, they move through the friction and dance through their dark clouds and at the slightest graze the skies  roar again, lightning consuming their sky, upon realizing they can not be one, they make a desperate attempt to hang on to eachother Grasping violently  hurting one another  with every carress thunder cracks through their sky once again bringing down a deluge of tears, pain and insatiable nights that evaporate slowly into a heavy dew falling over the streets they once walked. The silence that fills the air  dense with emptiness the skies are clear the sun shines and the only solace they will find lies in the ghost of their storm and the grey in their skies

Here I am again,
Asking what I've missed
I hope we can get back
on a regular talking schedule..
well, wait, that sounded awkward.

I guess I can't really say
why I dropped contact--
Or wait, did you?
I don't remember

I had fun that night
The one where we danced in
karaoke bar and stole a kiss here and there.

I guess that was us being drunk
and sharing our drunkeness
in a dance and a few close hugs

I hope you're well
I know I'm not very good at follow-ups

Crap, it's late. I can text you later?
I guess? I'm sorry.

I hope you're well.

I sat under a paper umbrella of the reddest hue autumn
and like an apple
I waited for you to pick me ripe
bite, smell my neck
and remember.
I sat on bench of grey weather boards
waiting to be thrown down upon them-
wanting to be pinned down upon them.
Feet on a rug of discarded
leaves, just like me.
discarded but beautiful.
still just a season long
season woman,
can you love me winter long?
Ill meet you on the snowy bench.
white puffs of apologises will float from my mouth.
my toes will shake and the fence we loved for being red
we'll love for being white.
Red will now slither to my ears and you will say things I can't hear.
And the stars will paint the sky too dark so we
can see that winter sparkles.
Spring is full of other lovers, this bench-
lovers that are not you and I.
And the playground is full of candy wrappers and mothers sneakers.
The trees are majestically green stretching and yawning and showing off.
The children bouncing, whining, crying,  finding.
Spring is full of lovers but not us
so she gives my heart to summer
and glass doesn't melt so the places where I like to feel your sweat
are the places where they like to touch my body.
summer makes us reckless and the bench, our bench is being held together by the squirrels claws and the sparrows talons... they wait for us to scatter.
hot you kiss my dampness, damper.
hot you kiss my pain and sorrow. boiling all the past good voyage.
our fence has lost some posts as,
the children love to climb and kick
it will hold on, still.
but it won't hold-out and won't hold-in which is what fences are meant to do.
at least they should... they should choose.
Autumn, yes it's autumn ours. We are autumn lovers
with leaves of the book skittering beneath the empty slide.
We are autumn, smell like the burning leaves of who we were.
Smelling like the fresh cut wood, ready to have her rings counted
Autumn lover, hold my hand and tell me you are afraid.
Autumn lover, holding color golden like a circle round.
Hurry, before she blows me past the red fence,
Hurry before our secrets get caught by the wind and dance around the playground.
Hurry Autumn lover,
Hurry to remember that you loved me, once.*

Shannon April Alice
11/2/14