thedarksiren2 | There once was a woman

Or even a girl
She once met a boy
or maybe, a man
with light eyes and darkest hair
she thought she had wings in the light
her reflection
in those eyes
wondered whether he could see her wings as well

He later told her
yes, he saw everything
stealing a kiss
when her eyes were closed

She remembered him
reminded of home
jumping feet
flashed palms and scattered thought
How did he know?

They would spend time in fields
nibbling grass and ears
sharing misery and love
sharing everything they had to give
because it was not about him
or about her
alone

It was about Them.

Journey to a place
with open arms
and faithfully
her voice melted his heart
and their souls melded
color-swirled
lop-sided
spectacular

She watched his father
cut off a thumb
before he reached the Romaine

The boy-man-person
froze
it wasn't him
but it always was anyway

the sirens came and stole away the bleeding hand
cursing the boy far and away

full-speed ahead
full moon
James' salty ripples
and crystal-shards

She would share more
he would ask why
she would say
between breaths and honey-dipped lips
"because you know"

years and miles
lies and pain
carnivals steal away
the best of intentions

carni-boy Dakota
dark hair, light eyes
small rivulets of darkness
wilder than before
she found that hard to believe

they went to leave
and he that knew
met her with his empty

they both wrecked inside
as she drove away to another town
leaving school
secondary homes
family
security

The boy who knew found a scar
Chi Chi's parking lot
windshield-wiper-rusting
blood oxidation

off and on
back and forth
they would run
in and out
they both knew
and played like it was nothing
But
paperwork and sad little sisters
called her
away away

it was just a picture
but he knew

five equals halfway
plus two to the whole
he found her again
he has found others
he told her so
he has found them
dark eyes and reddish haired
freckled and dimple-chinned
they only remind him
of what he already knows

he'll be responsible
he'll be a military man
or a boy
and she can be warm in sunny-D
a crown of gold
their throne about swollen fingers, aged
with him

she likes to read now
strange books
fanciful crafts she never fathomed
she likes to dye her hair fuschia too
and has been letting another boy
or man
inside to see
behind her pralines
just here and there
but curiosity
he would know, wouldn't he?

He didn't
nor did she
time would tell
and both would transform

she sometimes wonders
what if
did he really know?

but then the eyes pass more closely
and she knows
even if he does not
it was all for the best