Incompatible

poem from the raised platform of the Spunken Theatre. He shook his long hair out of his hypnotic blue eyes lazily, giving the impression he was high on some drug, alt

eights only known to poets and tho

ing them all. His face told

held me in

as the sun's

of pieces of ou

guns we melte

orns, we gr

a tear and moved from the door, cheering loudly. Her voice was choked with something deep, as deep as true love could infect it. She caught his

the desert, I

I found

eart

you better

rs, we'll dri

ey responded, and became one with him. Everyone was on their feet, shouting and held helplessly by the enchantress in his voice

de up. I know this poem as intimately as I know my name isn't Bob Marley," be

he heart," he winked at her, "for the

d across towards him, "Come to mamma, come and

ight tomorrow?" He asked trying to cover

raining hard with Mr. O. H

king outside to take the edg

s filthy hands all over yo

Nicolette. Aloud,

herwise, I wouldn't be

and you're willing to pay it, aren't yo

yce. She's good but no, you don't want her. You'd rather be with t

," she

mselves Mr. O moment? That

e's not Mr. O moment."

her. He couldn't be

have a problem wi

a problem with the way you relate with yo

these fights

don't mea

She inte

here was such a huge wall between them. Don felt that she deliberately chose no

ouldn't understand why he always found a way to spoil a good time. Always had a little something to disapprove.

Both of them were ravenous even after the meal they'd had after the show. They always went to her place. He'd made a

. Nothing from her. He clicked on her name and typed a message, but d

ty was the lubricant that kept their love wheels turning. Admittedly, he had failed to make her happy. Hadn't she told him numerous times that she wanted

it was the double standards he felt she kept. He knew he wanted to be married-he craved for it. Don knew he didn't mind falling in love in the morning and getting married later in the day but for some

place, just like he had done the last one hundred times. He wasn't into moving

e room. The furniture was mostly old pieces either bought at some local auction or one he'd had for a long time. Needless to say, every piece of his furniture had outstayed its longevity. His very life, just like his furniture, was a mangled mess. It reeked of failure, unrealized dreams, and numerous forsak

live for. Something to add meaning to his life. He realized it was the reason why he needed Nicolette so much, to fill that void in him. To find a reason to get up every morning and fight to write hi