picking petals off a flower
in a fibonacci way
he loves the girl, he loves her not
loved until her stuffing comes out
unloved until, unstuffed, she collapses
like a dodecahedron in red, blue and yellow
without form or frame, in a primary way
all the pieces just lay there
unnoticed
the golden thread that once strung them together
lost somewhere between april and september
"wake me up, when september ends"
"are we there yet?"
" me, i never take my towel to the beach"
in a quantillion ways everyone watches her sparkle and shimmer her love all around him
until there is simply
nothing
left
to
see
Nothing, left to sea, she said selling sea shells by the sea shore
Or was it c shells by the "sure", i see you...
It was route 528, running all the roads to home
ending, looking up at the sign
empty eyed once again
grey boy looks on at the party
waits for her to ask him to dance
sure, he sees her
their eyes meet
and the two inanimate, worn with love, more than a bit tattered
collapse in each other arms, hooves and hands
they dance in the kitchen
in a sea of tears.
little boy blue, come blow your horn
the sheeps in the meadow, the cows in the cor...
Wait, he said. Those are sugar beets.
And they had a chance to live happily, ever after that day, that is.