Inequalities

Love is a tanglewood tree in a bower of green

In a forest at dawn

Fair while the mockingbird sings,

but she soon lifts her wings

And the music is gone

Young lovers in the tall grass with their hearts open wide

When the red summer poppies bloom

But love is a trackless domain and the rumor of rain

In the late afternoon

-Tanglewood Tree, Dave Carter



He pulled on his cup of tea, he nursed it, he smothered it in leathery hands. And in his mind he played the same question over and over again like a child's wail: "Why did she go? Why did she leave me? So alone, so alone, so alone..."



The night would last forever, all nights did and by the time the weak sunlight pushed through his window-blinds he would be exhausted, not having moved an inch in his hard oak chair or slept even for a wink.



But tonight, tonight was the worst kind: the storm crashing outside, wind howling like a scene from Mary Shelley's Frankenstein. He destested the clichedness of the whole situation but was powerless to fight the rolling waves of emotions that engulfed him.

He would close his eyes, but sometimes that made it worse. She would be back; fire burning his dull pupils and turning them into ash. Her smile would cut him into a thousand pieces. And he would recall her smell: undescribable but reminiscent of fresh clothes and lilac blooms. It would never fail to calm him down when he was upset about the condition at the store or the unreasonable demands of his employer.

She was a shooting star blazing bright in the sky, as dazzling as it was distant. And he was no more than earth, the ground from which we rise and eventually fall back to, red dust returning to red dust.

P/S: Sorry for the infrequent posts lately...each time I start I never get to finish because there's always one commitment or another to run to. Hope you enjoyed this and remember to comment!