Where he is.

Do, just for now, attempt a logical entrance.
And won't you stroll down just so much further as to see her cradling her head in the alley?
I heard that night had fallen and hidden beneath it's shoal the foulest of stains on our pavements.
Dogs, somewhere in the background, howl.

Supposedly all that could be seen from his home were lines of grand trees,
Mountains fading into the sky,
and a distant ocean that sometimes fell into the clouds.
Much like a piano playing at night in the centre of a derelict carpark;
His words would drift the skies he sees.

'Why do your antique words rust?!
Oh they will never find you in a book!'
She sat solemnly, her hands folded upon her lap.
Brown silk, what a silly idea it now seemed.
For the dark of any powercut mightn't compliment an outfit best designed for the ritz.
'Did you ever really see yourself in a club in Bethnal Green?'
'Yes, well.. once'.
Her eyes were adjusting to the yellowing light rolling through the curtains,
and she let a relieved sigh toward the cold of the bed end's.
'That dress would look utterly beautiful against the emerald green of a pine tree...'
'Oh.. I've heard of those woods' came her whisper, that same piano in a smaller space.
Oh how Georgian walls echo that of which i cannot see,
oh please!
Have a little faith in the gone and past!

'You're actually gone, aren't you?'
On awaking, your face had seen the one in my dream,
and still you were alive.
Oh, her memorial played in my dream as real as any funeral,
and yet there you laugh, and there your familiar smile had me caught.
Oh, my own, the biggest heartbreak I would ever know!
Hidden by presumption, they were the hardest people by blood.
And now i cannot even look into brown eyes without my heart aching.

Finally I am alone,
though the murmer of guests remains some where else in the house.
Oh speak this slowly, lest it sound so short and unromantic!
I heard nothing of you after your leaving.
And yet your eyes across any venue would burn white.
I heard music more beautiful than any way you could have touched me,
How I lay, waiting for a finish,
Paper torn beside the bed.
A feather floats behind the window.
Imagined white, but labelled black.
My eyes distracted by any thing above us.

A tap in an open space,
came my night of walking.
No longer crowded by the general speech of every day'ers.
A crack in the distance and the cackle of a crow.
Lie in the dew, lie in the dew.
My god pine trees look majestic from down here.