History of Love - a tale of two.

Dropping eves like
peanuts and peas,
the passerby glanced
at the vanishing seas.

The waves remained reminders
of the same collapsing memories,
that came back again
through a forest without trees.

A strange sense
of absolute pretense
washed over his eyes,
like the melting evening sun
that faded out of sight.

Before he drowned
and after he was saved
his life passed by
before his uncrowned grave.

When he looked at the sky
he too wondered why
the tremendous infinity
seemed so desperately dry?

The lightening arcs shouted
behind courting clouds of white
while the wind muscled a chunk
of solar heat and light.

A zephyr whispered some wishful plans
while the clan of others stepped out to dance.
Above all it was nothing at all
but a factual twist of fate.
The passerby's stories
were too frequently late
- sometimes to love sometimes to hate.

She touched his shoulders before he could speak.
And before she could seek he had vanished from the shore.
Once more they parted like the pigeons off the street
who pecked on the peanuts and the charitable peas.

Words in the center
of conscious disaster
appeared to focus
somewhere near.
The voice was his own
but his music had outgrown
the everlasting bliss
that he carried in his moans.

He looked at the sky
and wondered why
she arrived so late
after making him wait.
He looked beyond
the rising waves,
a horizon had appeared
through his lover's gaze.