A short walk in the wind

She spoke in poetry

And the rhymes were in time with her thoughts,

But too fast for anyone else to keep up with.

She sought your glance

And hoped that your hands would need her hands to pass you something.

She follows the direction of love

And waits for you to read from the same map,

So you both land in the same place…

But,

She walks too fast for anyone else to keep up with.

She stops.

Waits.

Then sets off with you, making smaller paces,

so spaces closed in,

Became closer.

She craves your face

And wishes that your heart would need her heart too.

She stops and notices the rhythm in the wind

And waits for you to sweep her hair out of her eyes.