Ambiance of the Unspoken Mind

Dirt sodden avenues carpet footsteps as they patter
through wooded snowflake-leaves. A scene in
their nothingness where a heartening hand on
translucent skin cannot occur, apart from the
confines of imagination, voice, and reminiscence.

A depiction created, and he, ablaze with intuition
detects the vanishing pixels as they evaporate.
Where are her eyes? What pigmentation? How
is he to appreciate where to brush the shades and
tints, and what meticulous expressions to divulge
in the spoken legacy? A genetic corkscrew
unzipped into oblivion, all colors smear into muck.

In her somnolent arms she cradles his weariness,
compromising with his anguish and torment: a
lamenting downpour of seclusion when she
gazes into his proverbial expression, a reaffirmation
of the vast expanse sandwiched between.

Awkwardly stumbling through each tomorrow,
struggling to clasp brittle fingers unfeeling and
deadened; holding out for cold, rainy November
and a hopeful, but fruitless, panacea to secure the
fissure in hearts no longer cadenced with beating.