that was one hundred years ago.

There were an explosion of sentiment
the happening of two souls in wanting:
finding comfort within the midst of it.

In the back of a car we were sitting-
side by side
arriving in fifteen
you are shaking me asking me to think
and i'm smearing my lipstick all over your
crisp white things.

oh, how I wish I could mourn the death of me
and my eyes are fogging over
as you go on and on about why
i am -to blame for lacking
affection
retreating
my statements
cowardly
singing
subliminal
messages

no no no.this is all about my other personality.

I remember asking you to drop your things
I remember how your face spoke for itself
as if it was asking me to please 
evaporate
my hummingbird ways
into infinity.

Skip to the eve of your wedding day
your bride to be is weeping 
she is dry
heaving.

She is waving :
a photo in front of your face
containing:
my limbs all tangled up in
your chaise 
you are holding a teacup beside me
with two arms wrapped around
and a peter pan ish embrace.

she will always remain
i can see her in between the
laugh lines
of your face!
do you miss what you had?
i can smell her in
the pockets of
your worn out plaid!

oh my god that was years and years ago
oh my god she was nothing but a half pipe note

remember your wedding reception?
with the silver screens playing what
could of been
behind the photos of your childhood 
leading up to then.

you keep lookin' round the corner
adverting your eyes to the front
back
side door

after the wedding you go down by the lake
tossing something blue-a bouquet of your
misery
anchored down by fate.

day by day we sink
one thousand feet

shes gone missing
along with her
wide set eyes
and pale pink lace

she will be remembered
not only in the lake but
between the smile lines
on your mouth
the laugh lines
on your face.

this was all because of my inability to mourn
the saddest of things

this was all left at the bottom
of your watery face. 
your wedding day.

oh my god that was years and years ago
isn't it weird how some things never seem to change?

as if they are breathing softly,deep inside their lilac tinted 
grave.