They started out feeling very certain, exclusively foggy, yet undeniably certain even amidst such nebulous haze. It transpired for a reason, a chance finding, delicious happenstance. They two would form an unruly bond full of secrets and huddled nights, holding in the summer air with bated breath.
And as the rain, that pours in sudden showers, so other findings seemed to appear. One in a box, grey, full of oaths and proclamations. A relic in memory, inconstant, repetitious. Another carried in honeyed words, a sauce to sugar, enticing albeit for lips housing impish grins. Next subtlety, as axiomatic as days are brief, and this in appearance as the others and still the other, the former, the latter, the in between.
While some asked for more, others nothing. And the She found again in copious confusion as which game to play, rules ever changing. So for some time, some days and early mornings, the two continued their certain uncertainty until the evening she awoke. And in new consciousness she gathered the box, the saccharine words, the subtlety and the uncertainty, methodized the fragments and walked away.
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