Poetry

Sweet heat rushing to my face on a cold rainy day.
You are here, walking beside me,
And with my hoodie obscuring my face
And you set on your task,
Why, you haven't recognized me yet.
I get to observe you,
For a moment,
Just being yourself.
I guess nobody else would think that was anything special,
But to me, it is fairy dust and angel wings,
Just magic giving my heart the power of flight.

Inside, settled, you notice ...

Your absence is deafening.
It's all the screeches and howls of a too-full room.
It's my blood crackling as it chills.
It's my brain screaming, reaching out and trying to touch some trace of you.
There is not a shred of you, here, though.
Nothing.

I feel the earth underneath me, stirring,
More alive than the fleshbags walking past.
They laugh at me,
Because yes,
I am lying outside
Enjoying nature's splendor
The way a child might.
I can feel the storm building,
Clouds about to break,
Leaking acid rain.
Little droplets start to fall,
Hitting me in the face -
Not offensively,
Simply playfully.
I find the scene delicious,
And I stir as the ...