of roofs, roses, and rain.

he picked me a rose at midnight. it sits here still, withered and dry; curled petals as i click away at the keys. the dewy buds, now preserved, nod in my direction, held within glass and water. dark crimson remnants floating idly on the surface next to the magnified stem. it wasn't given up easily - a war was waged with thorns and leaves while i stood cloaked under the umbrella in the teasing rain. you captured the rose, and in a gallant motion you bestowed it unto me.

i met him on the roof. did i ever know him before? he didn't know me. we are all versions of old selves, but when perceptions and dreams change, so do we. dense sky, few stars, wisps of clouds - we considered the view from the corrugated iron, just behind the chimney. blow smoke in my ear. blow smoke in my eyes. blow smoke on my lips... your lips, like vanilla and lemonade, missed me.

speak of dreams. speak of perceptions. change. he loves me again, but i never stopped loving him. i didn't want to be with him until that moment. tell me you long for me, tell me you think of me - no, tell me nothing at all. it's only now, it's only new. my breath caught in my chest as we ambled across the pavement, wrapped in arms and walking in step. frosty air escapes from our mouths in excited shivers. a jetty, a black river, a solitary swan. an embrace in the night.

time never happened. we discovered each other; it was different. worlds away from what was, where what could be would reign. i crept into the corners of your mind and found a place to be kept, a place to keep you. love re-made is as precious as it comes - rare and sparkling, a diamond cut with precision and care. fated souls, destined pairs? i only know roofs, roses, and rain. knots deep within and starry gazes. tangible feeling and streaming thoughts. and in these things, i know. nothing will ever be as perfect.