Cups Of Chai.

Betwixt You and I,
Rest two cups of cold chai,
And the Sun,
turning scarlet as it blushes and hides behind the houses.
Wispy hair o' mine that wavers around like sea weed,
And you don't brush it away,
Let it stray unto your face,
A shore welcoming a wave.
The crevices of concrete,
merge beneath our feet,
We sit there...obscure of the sickly warmth of stone,
and the humdrum of motion benath us.
Hearts that hold Penchants for one another,
 The Quiet Betwixt us,The sweet Melancholy..
An uplifting Crescendo.

Through Tinted Windows On Hazy Afternoons.

Melancholy could be subtle too,It isn't always an extremity..a tragedy.A silent storm,in itself.
Melancholy could be..
Nail Paint chipping away.
Reminiscing Phone Conversations.
The Last Day Of Summer.
An unopened Box of Cherries on the tabletop.
The Silence that looms over locked doors.
Reassurances about the scheme of things.
Erratic midnight rain.
A neglected room.
Unspoken words left to be felt.
A lonely child.