the morning i came back home to you
there were clouds of thunder behind your eyes
and something told me that day
no raincoat nor lightning rod would help at all
i offered you my rose-coloured glasses
a divergent lens you could pardon me through
i hoped to see your rainbow smile
and a sundog dancing a jig on your nose
but adoration’s spine got broken with words
our kisses tainted by ire and woe on fire
and so the rose-coloured view was cracked
overwhelming the room with a fatal shatter
punctured by the shards of desperate memories
of us never at peace despite love’s prevailing
weak and vulnerable, ever weather-exposed
without imminent hope for a good forecast
and so i pulled at the pieces until they fell away
a trail of wreckage leading out the door
a wet season took its hold over the world
the morning i forsook a home with you
by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2021
unbolt me 
Lovely
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Angie. 😄🙏
LikeLike
Tony,
Yep sometimes the rose-colored glasses aren’t enough. Maybe we take away something good from the rain? There is always a lesson to learn.
Thanks, Gary
LikeLiked by 1 person
Always, Gary. I completely agree. 😀
LikeLiked by 1 person
Poignant and eloquent.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so much! 😄🙏
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’ve been away: that this is the first poem I get coming back is a miracle. It’s beautiful pain. Think about doing a spoken version: it lends itself nicely to voice. 💖
LikeLike
Thank you so much, Em. We should really consider that! 😊🙏
LikeLiked by 1 person