Monday Never Came

On tuesday he said he loved me and the rain never came.

He explains details and his hands move. His hands have always been beautiful.

I came to the conclusion that beauty only stems from love. He is my basic.

He says,
"Everything you want to do, anything. What i teach you now are the basics. You'll need this to build. to create."

He might as well be saying,
"If ou want to create anything you'll need me."

Him with his beautiful hands.
His self expression never included me.
That's ok. It didn't need to. Or so i keep telling myself.

Come wednesday the stars in midnight whisper selfish.
The ocean purrs.
Desserts say "pleasure awaits you at the seashore."
Sweet rewards say "No greater gift than love."

I know how to put his thoughts into words better than he does.
I want to teach them to him.
Depth. Perception. Passion.

I stare at our language barrier.
Both on paper. One charcoal. the other pencil.
The same form.

One with fears. one with dreams.

On thursday he packs.
ON friday he leaves.
Saturday we celebrate with fake smiles and tear spiked laughs.

Sunday we mourn. All in black. broken heart. He'll always be beautiful. I Love you. I'm sorry.