October 28th. the day before it had arrived

pumpkin leaflets, summers leaving, volkswagon sedan on a drive

gusts of season. flannels. & walks through 10pm suburbia nights

blasts of orange harvest, olfactory senses concise.

lakeside and beverly creak. Lake Nelson just over in reach

the crossover between the fur elise and berry stems in the streets.

the very first time we ever had kissed

and unlocked sundrops. whirlwind storms that soon would commence

to convince ourselves that this wasnt pretend.

october 29th 2012, we watched on the news how much sandy had caused

wondering if our love was the somehow the cause of it all

visiting coach. 6 hour dividend coast.

whiskey & hope. woodford reserve on the millbury slopes

3000 miles. a year later. psychiatrists, and displacement was born

the forecast was sun, sun, sun, roses without thorns on the stem 

feet dangling off the gondola lifts. balm on your wrist to soothe the sore on your lips.

a feeling of emptiness with her finger not adorned with a gem.

telling me time heals all. something you accustomed me too 

and i believed you cause your wristwatch covered your wounds

blood drunk. hungry for more, hungry for passion

That gets robbed from me, the moment our hands clinch

i was embarrassed. ads on the walls about marriage

false interpretations of love, made the gray areas bland

endless carousel wagon, help reveal this fairytale land.

October 22nd, 2015, three years after it happened

i’ll never forget. i visited you after two years from the norm

thinking it was calm, but it was just the eye of the storm

we walked home from the bar, silence spoke a desolate rage

makeshift disarray. maroon merlot in a vase 

she undressed before walking in the room as to say

she had it with life, and it’s incessant display

of obsessions for sex. and temporary embrace

of this modern day culture of sultry distaste

bra clinging off her shoulders, so i just let the metaphor hang

mama let out a cry and said it wasn’t the same

so i touched her lips with mine & understood what she claimed

inebriated, insane. on your breath, Cabernet

full bodied, at the tavern they knew you loved it that way 

stroking your hair. i muttered, i know, its okay

knowing it wasnt. and knowing we’ve changed

we were both naked, and touching, but felt a silk layer in haste 

and it sucks that i had nothing better to say. 

gray goose swallowing pain

these scars don’t define you, these scars are displays

to let the next person know you made it out, not stronger, but strange 

head in my chest, hair in my mouth, hole in my brain 

nestled in the crevices where the tension exclaimed 

a lie is just a story where its ruined by truth in mistake

karen o and the kids on the record replays 

squeezed each other hands. a two people submission

inside of delusion. to sobbing in fetal position

relationships never play out as we have them envisioned

its true what they say that life is a bitch…es.

keeping the ring box in my pocket mightve been indecision

the next day, on the plane she said to send her a text

thousand kilometer stretch. its something we wanted in jest

when i landed she asked me if we could ever work out the distance

to feeling the neglect in between the pause in her sentence

as the autumn air in newark port, teared through my throat

love rendezvous became my de ja vu. a hurricane i had to fare on my own

Published by Cristian Leonardo

Cristian's Cafe. This is my cafe, we have Wi-Fi, but it's not very good. Poetry, Podcasts, Personal Blogging, Research Articles, Open Mic, Comedy, Art. An entire website dedicated to my many forms of expression and happiness.

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