i can smell the petals fall

no one understands the weight of an echo. the difficulty in taming it's unbridled desire. it slips easily thru misconception. often misunderstood, it does not mimic, nor mirror. fluid lucidity. no one can see a heatbeat's shadow. only feel the artic chill resounding in each beat's absence, as it moves, dancing along the sun's beams. flashes on air tone heat waves streaming above sticky concrete.... no one can hear a teardrop fall. it's mass, booming silence deafening the listener straining for proof of it's existence. painfully knowing it's there, yet unable to recognize it's song, as it cuts thru rainstorms tormenting the soul.. no one can touch a dream fulfilled. the thrill is not in what's materialized, only the emotions tickling your nose.... triggering cayenne tinged tears, hot flushed achievement that swirls in the breeze. i can smell the petals as they fall, bitter sweet the descent from grace to disparity. blues, pinks, yellows, meld fragrantly outside my window beckoning..........