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Description
she took, and on the back of his hand, drew pictures
of flowers, oblong shapes and figures with neon
pens; he didn't mind, put up a protest,
their daily ritual, habit.
he counted the freckles on her face,
frowned long and hard whenever she'd
light up, and waited for her to tire
from just staying up late, lay head
on his shoulder rest and smelt
her hair, letting it's scent fill his lungs,
memorizing her redolence, separating it from the nicotine;
   preferring such vices over his decidedly
     worse offenses, his failings of melancholy mornings and
   solemn afternoons apart from her, fits of tears
     and oft-heard whimpers dancing along with his
          quiet indiscretions – supposed weakness in character.

the sun descended as gracefully as it
   had risen during the morning, rousing dew
   soaked honeysuckles and lilacs to delight
           the senses once more, and now in
twilight shadow's casted light
were heavy feelings lifted into
   the top layers of atmosphere of her

tiny apartment. upside down views
from her pet gecko, Shisa, saw them
dressed in startling layers of yellow and
purple, ever brilliant, spell-
binding lucent tints coalescing from
the awesome dual haze. and though oblivious
to Shisa's view, found him feeding
off the colors, nurturing the heavy feelings they
birthed and watched over from the beginning
and those emotions floated as light as helium, and,
     as it often tends to occur in relentless
       undulations, in moments of brief, quiet repose,

the world in that tiny apartment resplendent
in glorious hues reflected from the neon
pen designs drawn on the back on his
hand she held on to dear life, the dear,
and luminous visions saw clarity in
tremendous resolutions, admirable convictions;
her life wouldn't be marred by a single thing.