Five steps in front of her is
her question of the moment
He stands and walks to her
side
Discussing a decision she
has no time to make

This is a documentation of
lips longing for contact
Of hearts needing to feel
warmth

Granted, the night retains heat
But they remain cold
Don't try to blame the breeze
that brings the tide to their
feet
It is still warm from an
overwhelming day

They take their feelings and
conversation and lock them in
a "To be continued..." state
Traveling south about thirty
feet, they greet their mental
photographer
A man whose film is developed
with words
They make known that they choose
to leave
I stare at them and say, "Give
me two minutes."
I steal five in addition

Climbing down, off of my stone
easel, only my legs go numb
Sitting cross-minded and
cross-legged isn't the best
idea

The distance between where I
struggle and my destination
seems too far
I bite my tongue and walk
Stopping about halfway, I pull
out a Red and ignite it with
my not-so-real Zippo
Crossing my fingers in the
process
Let this be it
Let this be the one that
concludes all things

Just to see her smile, I
would end
To be the river where her
rain falls
I live...sort of

My tongue bleeds
I walk

Upon reaching the car, I
freeze yet again
Reaching into my pocket, I
pull out a smile and duct
tape it to my canvas
Opening the door to Infiniti,
I sit inside and shut it.

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