Love: Contemplating On Your Doorstep

(Oh, how time goes by, hm? It's been A long while Since she last said Farewell. (She remembers; Your smile Despite your unnerving hand Said you wanted to plenish A rogue tease On her lips. Which was fine Then. But time went, And desire disguised itself, Spiraling into satirical hatred. And somehow between Ponders and dreams Of whispering tickles Inside your ear, She escaped a fate chosen for her.) (And maybe that's why she came.) As I stand here Below your window A tattered red Wired on my face. Despite all Banter against it, I could not help But be here. Don't get me wrong. I argued it profusely, Though you'd say I always do. But as I stared into the mirror, Into the eyes of desire It was inevitable. Fate as you too, Would say, That my fingers should grasp That dress you once loved And quiver its stream Upon my skin, Flowing loosely into a shimmering waterfall. You know I wouldn't have worn it unless, Well- (How should she begin?) Remember? When the splattering color Thrashed its way upon The black canvas of night? You stood off Away. And I stood even farther. I called to you And wished you all the best -albeit the deafening insult I cradled with wishes echoing in your humored mind- I meant it. The words were as genuine As the heart throbbing Under the chest As I watched, Lost in those colors Thinking of, Well- Forgive me. I should have called And declared my timely arrival. You probably have A matter of importance To uphold. But as I recalled You loved sugary treats. And maybe when your diligence ceased For just a moment, And you craved a sweet for pleasing, Just know You would only to place your hand in mine To take it (Why isn't she quick to the point, lad?) I'm sorry. I know you'd like to hear this From someone else, Spewing it from their throat. But today Disguised in all that you love, I wanted you to understand. I was hoping, All that changed would be devoured By what I needed to tell you, If I could. (If only she could. The truth is, She knows it is A fated destiny. Though one that does not start here. For even if This door swung open And her heart bloomed. Even if you wielded The words of 'I', and 'you' And 'unsheathed destiny'. Even if You scorched her soul Fervently with honeyed love, Where before the crafting of your hearts From friends, pains and time To be sharper for yourselves; From you to her and her to you, I'd have to say With the essence, Of everything I am That it just isn't meant to be.)