The boy took the girl in his car to the place he knew lovers go. Her in his car under his gaze. She and her shy femininities exuding from her like vapor, surrounding them in the night. He thought to himself, how lucky is he to be here in the atmosphere of her love this night. Her mind beat against the inside of her skull. He took her hand. His content gaze out over the city and the stars through the windshield and her crazed animal mind not coming through her skin to him.
Little did the boy know the spirits that gathered outside his car conspired with the girl against him. They circled outside the car and saw the boy's innocent love-aspirations and what it was that he saw in the girl and regarded it like pirates of the heart. They swung open the door and pulled the girl out by her metaphysicals. The boy tried to hold on but he really didn't stand a chance and the spirits carried her to where they wanted her and lifted her up and held her and did those things to her. More spirits held the boy down and made him watch. The girl whaling in the trance of the will of the spirits and the anguish of the boy like a very tragic faerie tale that night.
The girl looks back on the night later in life in the all's fair way that every woman looks back on the memories of her heartbreaks. The man who sits in the chair beside her's who was the boy in the story reaches over and takes hold of her hand. The woman's pretensions that a man can't understand and the story of her life like she wanted it. He holds her hand and they look out from their porch. The man sitting there more content than ever in the role he has played in her life and the woman's mind working hard on her next fantasy.
Walking among the old windmills,
I saw a young boy struggle against the wind
His coat was short, his legs were thin
I could not see his face behind his hands,
But in that hurricane still knew
He was not crying, he was not frowning
The windmills turned a faster pace,
The wind picked up as in a race
And lifted him, revealed his face
I caught his eye, and knew him then -
He looked remarkably like me,
And made amends with him
The night the windmills raced the wind
I saw a young boy struggling
His coat was short, his legs were thin.
Tons more poetry on my blog,
http://igglestheclown.blogspot.com/