Newness saunters in from the rain
And creeps up my staircase
We howl at each other
From terraces, balconies
Out windows and racing cars
The wind sweet her dress around her knees
A whirlwind commotion of fabric and fear
Her hands brace the hem
Fighting the air
Until stillness pushes through

The Neanderthal man has turned slowly around
I can see the beginning of his lesson
Half-slit eyes like diced almonds
Blinding me with a searing stare
"Look," he says, motioning to the red umbrella.
"You had better go out tonight. You've waited for the right time,
a perfect scene, the best light. Well this is it."

His shadow splices the scenery
Just gone, forever engraved in my static
It's been 46 days
A constant stream of good and bad
Judgement and assumptions
Life and slippery dreams
And fading quickly is the importance
The enormity, the intensity
The rocky tragedy is finally ripping at the seams.

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