in the overcast

In yellow polka dots
she looked like sunshine on an overcast day
and overwhelmed my senses with the sickly sweet scent
of rotting vegetation after rain

She looked at me the way day
must look at night, like we shouldn’t be
in the same place at the same time
and
what are you wearing?

She a vintage summer photograph
and, I, nostalgic grunge graffiti on a forgotten alley wall

Without speaking we stood on opposite sides
of the summer divide
sunshine and moonlight
burnt days and aloe nights
creatures of fact and fiction
reality and nostalgia

And we passed each other like the elapse-ation of time
dawn and dusk, both fading
both waking up and breathing in air of a new day
free of darkness and light
on the respective ends of our inherited spectrums
where I live without yellow polka dots, and sunburnt gazes
and she without the gradients of a blood moon before a storm

© Indie Adams 2013