Crépuscule

She was the dashing rain focused
on bringing my mind to my feet.
At times, she used to sit on the other side
of the table with scorching hot cup of

her tea between her fingers.
Postponing the heartbreak she used to
focus her green eyes on mine as if
challenging my identity.

She was the horizon line on the
sunset-painted sky
and I never really knew what colour she was
nor did I care to determine.

Pained pride and patience was
everything she had to offer,
and I refused to be just another cloud
on her demeaning sky.

Author's Note

Crépuscule is French for twilight, or dusk.

Reviews

[AJ Kristiansen]

Amazing use of words here to create wonderful images... "She was my horizon line on my sunset painted sky..." really beautiful... and complex and will leave me thinking about that concept for some time! Well done you conveyed the pain that can be prevalent in relationships... I love your take on it!

[screamin'ian]

Twilight is the magic hour when what can't be seen in the dark of night or in the blinding light of day is briefly apparent. You have a talent for capturing the ephemeral with concrete imagery. I always feel a little haunted after reading your work, Little Birdie

[R J Askew]

I really like the last two lines in part because the remind me of how I have felt about being 'collected' by another and stuck in a trophy draw with a pin through my soul.

[Alana McGuire]

"She was the horizon line on the
sunset-painted sky"
I've never heard anyone be described this way, but I honestly love it. It's an intriguing painted thought.
Thank you for the read request. :)