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…
She walks too fast for anyone else to keep up with.
Then sets off with you, making smaller paces,
so spaces closed in,
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.