His sadness seeped in,
unexpectedly, but it always
did.

It was like the mixing of
paints –
hues swirled into one.

She should have been used
to this by now, but those
emotions always caught her
off guard –
just like now.

The intensified effect of
such things always left her
reeling from the onslaught –
sucker punched, left right left left right.

If only she could turn down
the volume of his emotion,
then perhaps she could regain
her footing –
teetering on the edge of a tight rope doesn’t help.

The graying sky signals the
coming of showers –
whether it be from the heavens above
or from clouded eyes heavy with rain.

On the railing stands a raven –
she reaches out to the memory.