Maybe one day when you are alone, walking, you will feel me in the winds that howl your name.
You will look up to the clouds and see a delicate silhouette of the shape of my face or the paint of our mouths.
You will find the flowers by the road a distant memory of the bouquet of flowers that never reached me.
You will let yourself be bathed in the sun that reminds you of my golden skin brown.
Maybe one day when you are walking alone, you will feel me at a distance walking close.
Closer to the realms that hold you in motion of the world cast out in movement.
The clouds will cover all of the yellow sun and nothing will be left, just us and sound.
You will pick the flowers by the road and approach me gently with your heart in your hands covered in drops of petals.
You will let the rain drizzle upon us and then swallow us both like a whirlwind of hope.
To a place you and I subside, within the calamity of it all.