Visions (a Chicago Love Song) in Summer

She sits by her window, as the darkness of the night exudes the beauty of her silhouette, nostalgia softly strums the chords on her guitar, and instantly notices that she is playing for an audience of two,

the smiling little girl whom only she can see, and the boy sitting next to his window a building away, scribbling offbeat poetry to the cadence of her sound,

they notice each other but say nothing,

as she continues to play in the mystery of this humble shadow, he continues to write with a mesmerized wrist, listening with roused ears, fascinated by the sound of her creative heart:

as she strums a story of pain, he writes a story of love,

as he writes under jubilation, she plays over heartache,

catching notes in the still air like wishing stars that have never came true, he revives them with light, revealing promise on an ordinary looseleaf with awkward print,

irony smiles in secrecy, in a tale where two souls communicate with art, but fail to utter words which escape from their lips, this vision, resembles a beautiful disaster, like a gallery of a thousand mirrors cracked to imperfection,

yet there is nothing more incontestably beautiful, than the composition of music soothing the mind of a writer, filling in the void of blank nothingness, from the warmhearted inspiration she has yet to witness, with her own two eyes and ears,

"if only..." he confesses on paper, "I shall be remembered..." she plays in tears, "she would surrender her heart..." he replies, "as the coldest night in December..." she echoes in silence, with the last vibrating chord, slowly dying in the chill of the weary night air....