Walking together, a beautiful empty road.
Now three steps behind.
Face turned away, still feeling a sight.
Avoiding a stare, a hidden truth.
Air is ever changing, but stays the same.
Ahead, releasing a frigid breeze against a warm flushed cheek.
A boundless touch, causing a jagged heart to bleed.
An open wound, only a kiss can cure.
An open palm reaching for a closed fist.
Internally elegant, flirting with my imagination.
Discarding my scarlet glasses, revealing a beautiful tear streaked face.
Clear skies arise, a butterfly drifts by.
He smiles, and walks away.
I am three steps behind.