14 12 18

November 14, snow began to fall
Red sweater, sleeves too long; black pants too short
Three holes in his worn out shoes, a large pair
of frames on his snow clad nose. Ruffled hair
He stared at the closed gates and laughed like an
idiot. She just agreed to his dinner date.

When Diana rested and Apollo
slept, the sky was dark with no stars in sight
He would polish his dad’s black leather shoes,
straighten the bow tie on his penguin suit
Midnight, his hunchback mother would ask, “who
is she? this girl you are off to see?”

Twelve red roses and eighteen candles lighted
A slice of ham, and green lettuce in hand
Two pieces of whole wheat bread, mayo
warm. He takes a bite and smiles, it’s Tuesday
He says, “you are my lady of the night,
my raven.” Her deep brown eyes ignite in
him this passion so irresistible.

The morning sun kissed the Earth, Aurora
sheds her tears of dew, sparkling on
the crowded grass and wrinkled willow trees
Damp air, wet against the purple red sky
The laces on his shoes loose, he opens
his eyes. Red roses wilting, silent on the ground
Smell of cotton candy, he blows out the
scented candles.  White, lavender petals.

He smiles, leaves the flowers with her and walks
away. Untied shoe laces, coat on inside
out, basket of one person’s leftovers.
At his doorsteps, his hunchback mother asks,
“who is she? This girl you always go see?
Can I meet her? Bring her home someday soon.”

The large frames on his rectangle face shake,
the brushy stubs beneath his chin needs shaving
“I can bring you to see her tonight.
She lives at this place North of those golden gates.
It’s a quiet place, no cars, no shops; quaint.
I think you’ll like her, but she doesn't say much.”

Beyond the first push of tall golden gates
North of the busy little town they call home
He kneels before her and sets down twelve roses
And eighteen candles lighted. Lavender,
Cotton candy. “Here she is, here she lies.”
14 12 18

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