A budding writer's collection

Serendipity

Our paths crossed, you call it happenstance,

I feel it was the green trails of aurora borealis painted across the southern skies,

The improbability of such a possibility drives me closer to you

You're the dying fire of a windy night,

And my trembling hands couldn't dream a better one.

We meet every evening as the sun slips beneath the horizon,

Mauve sky and the emerald glows of flies

Hidden far away from questioning eyes,

Conventions be damned when the heart flutters with joy

Your fingers trace these moles of mine,

Your lips whisper of what the future holds,

Your dreams are vivid, your feelings true

Yet, my heart folds in despair,

The improbability of us renders me blue

How can the sanctity of this serendipity be preserved,

When a hundred hands reach out to pull us apart?

How can we act like strangers for their sight,

When its your scars etched in my eyes,

When shutting the world opens a door to yours?

My heart yearns to run away, hand in hand,

But my rational side knows that it's a chance we can't take

Sometimes I wish my mind didn't calculate improbabilities every other second,

I wish I could just believe, in the vague shapes and feelings that you trust so.