Impossible Odds

I far too often
fall in love

with strangers
in the crowd.

Where,

in a road
of grey and rain,

the color
of your lipstick

drew me
to the details
of your eyes.

Your sad story…

I know
that we
were both
surprised;

with doubted
warmth
within our eyes,

And I to you
mistrusted too
the beauty

in the shape of your nose…

Do you
want to know a secret?

I’ve never liked
sleeping
sitting up…

But I’d not dare
to think to move
until I’d finished
painting you

onto the walls
of my every dream.

Because,
you see,

Your dark aura
is my personal gravity;

Your voice
the perfect melody

to pierce
this icicle silence

and calm
this endless
winter’s violence.

and remind me still
in gentle tone
that we weren’t meant
to be alone.

But,

I fear our storms may never clear,
and life might never let you near

And I am left
subject to theft

in the face
of all these
impossible odds…

I scream
into nothingness

as your scent vanishes
from the surface
of my favorite suit jacket.

I pray
to my chaos

that the taste of your lips
might linger
just a moment longer.

I plead
to the stars

as my watercolor painting of you
washes away
between my finger-tips

staining the paper ocean
of my fragile memory.

Please…

Let me torture myself
a little longer,

so that I don’t forget
what it feels like
to fall in love…

Forgive me,

for hoping I might
paint the world
with all the colors
of your smile.

My sad story…

I have to leave
You have to stay

Never room
for hopeless poets
really anyway.

I only hope

that in the face
of all of these
God damn
impossible odds,

you’ll find the sun
beyond your storm.

If we might only
have lived in a world
where I could
never leave you
to cry alone again…

But instead,

even the best
Chinese food
will always taste
of the dreams
that never came.

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