Past transgressions: The Prince of Cups

I said the words and then it rained

Like a final release.

Booming thunder and lightning in the sky like veins.

I stood there on that city street

like I'd always imagined the two of us

on our deserted island

where we could really be together.

The water came down heavy like shells

exploding into tiny pieces as they hit the ground.

My sandpaper feet felt like silk on the asphalt

and my hair stuck to my face like

a thin layer of tissue paper.

For that moment just before the storm

That moment where you can feel the electricity in the air

The "if only"s came out of the tips of my fingers

and danced on the tree infront of me like little birds

mingling with the heat and the iris' below

ever to be forgotton?

I think not...

Ever to be remembered

Catapulted into the past like my grandfathers eyes and the way the smoke came out of his mouth as he sat on his warm brown chair.

The prince of cups.

He stairs into the wine and tells me what I'm thinking.
Lilacs and loss, a parallelled past

Cascading over the puddles

as I look and my reflection and see him instead.

Sometimes I wonder if once day I'll wake up

and he wont exist-

like he was inside me all along.

Or maybe I'll wake up and I'll be on that island

with him sitting in a palm tree

smiling that giant smile that takes up his whole face.

Today I woke up and the rain had stopped.

I woke up and couldn't remember what he looked like anymore.