The Beauty of Inconsistency

This time last year the sky collapsed into a million transparent fragments.

Clumsy bright flashes appeared & dispersed as if mimicking the actions of a heartbeat

The only thing missing was violent shrieks of thunder you claimed were occupying the empty spaces in your lungs

This time last month white dainty flakes rested on the edge of cold, frail lips

You screeched not one, not two, but three times, irritated by the harmless balls of snow that fell onto your eyelashes

They piled on top of one another, promising the very ground they laid upon that this would be the last time, until next time

This time last week spring reared its dainty head again

The sun never shined so brightly, glazing our melanin induced skin as we walked, just walked.
no confirmed destination in mind.

You cried out that the authentic aroma was poisoning your airways

Vision blurred by a stream of tears dying to escape your eyelids

This time last night there was a full moon, it stood silent, hovering over us

I could smell the dense scent of envy radiating from you

You confessed that you felt smaller than usual, intimidated by its beauty … “I wish you looked at me like that” you said

As I stood there shamelessly gawking at the sky

This time, today, I could finally see you, cornered by a misty cloud coated with pessimism
Unable to remember clearly the way your lips used to curl
as effortlessly as the beauty behind the earth’s inconsistency