Hands and hearts reaching into the depths of the unknown.

A story maybe retold with two characters seeking early afternoon,all alone.

They're hands touch,a brush with fate in a poorly lit aisle.

A familiar title with a foreign cast standing above and laying below the scattered pile.

Eyes meet,locked, and reloaded for a story that tugs and won't let go.

One copy displayed framed by two hands that form a broken frame.

The need for new found drama,writes a story of shame.

Two souls that were seeking for mystery found what they didn't bargain for.

A hunger was fulfilled in an awkward place that multiple as they walked out the door.

The sunken treasure left amongst nuggets in a colorful crate.

A moment of selfishness that transpired into unknowing fate.

The present rewinds in a poorly lit aisle the strangers treasure revealed,the two matinee leading actors gasp.

Theyre bodies fall in perfect time as the story unfolds,a silent picture with two onlookers with a bonding future predestined to last.

there are no life guarantees

sure fire money back offers

that evermore love returns

breathless heart pounding

passion pouring hot fluid

if you felt it every hold it

many never have nor will

much less get another shot

later in life body cold tired

joy is in fleeting moments

looking for a second flash

will leave you discouraged

dismayed frustrated empty

looking backwards reliving

a tick in time forever gone

There. I take it back,

everything I didnt say.

Finally, I step tentatively into the light, that first step, so fearful, but driven by unstoppable forces,

churning so close to the surface I fear they may spill out.

If only to taste your breath again.

I have found that I am more afraid that goodbye will be too permanent, than I am of having to scrape to your whims,

In the hopes that I might swim through the depths of your sagacious delusion,

Depsite my better judgment, I wish to drown myself in sentimental repetition.