06.06.06 - 11:48 am

REFLECTION
Her smoldering cigarette fell to the ground
a dazzling slow motion ballet of smoke and embers,
that familiar gritty grind of shoe and stone
smearing flame into pavement

It was a run on sentence
we were,
a compost heap of comma splices and line breaks
in an never ending novel of deceit.

Between us, a photo album of moments and memories
pasted behind a collage of hand written mutual adorations
A tattered box of folded corners and missing faces
tucked away under the bed.

I studied each green and yellow fiber inside her eye
feeling the warm breath of her voice against my neck
and the sour scent of tobacco tinged finger tips against the ridges of my mouth.
It would be another two more years
before I realized what all this incompatiablity meant.