Vermillion

a raindrop

tectonic plates,

trembled.

leaves shook.

seasons raced

against the wind.

spring came

and autumn went.

all that we once shared,

passed the skies,

like a dark cloud,

its heaviness a thick shadow,

leaning on to my soul;

my tongue lapped

at every word from that day,

when the cloud tore a little.

while Nostalgia cuddled Memories,

Memories swallowed

a wallow, a tear,

some salt,

and harbored

in her creaks,

an estranged shudder.

Nostalgia changed positions,

poked at the holes (of his partner),

fingered the cracked seams

and trumpeted from his insides,

a desire to stretch.

while he was at it,

he drank from the skies,

and from the tiny rainbow,

your presence had always sparked.

he drank,

from the seven-year-old

dark cloud.

he drank,

from your dimpled smile,

your lips were currently indulged in,

filled his hunger,

threw a long leg over Memories,

and went back to their eternal sleep.

and when I smiled at you,

I thought,

all you saw were my fragments

from seven years ago,

haphazard and dangerously strewn,

slipping into my close-lipped smile.

I saw the dark cloud

from our dark skies,

when it passed your face,

while my heart ran for cover,

desperate to hide my ugly smile,

to save some dignity,