tête-à-tête

I sit here gutless 
Amidst the downpour,
The heavy mourning 
Of clouds in the distance.
And in all truth,
I hardly seem to hear.

There’s so much quiet 
In the rumble and splatter
Much solitude
And no questions.
But in all truth,
I hardly seem to revel.

While the drops splinter
Across my barred window,
Each echo vanishing
Into an endless strife.
Drop follows a drop,
And the trails of it, all lost.

I try to capture the sensation
With an earnest, receding heart
There’s no despair, nor joy
Just an empty slate.
And no chalk.

Vacant eyes
Look up at the sky 
Gauging it’s expanse.
Azure and dainty
Perched up
On this b
ottomless bay,

She asks me to yield.
I listen closer..
And she stares
That kindred vacancy in her ogle

Ah, maybe it’s just my crazy day..!
 

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