Tiptoe lightly across my heart
As if you were walking on snow
Whilst trying to leave no trace
That you had ever been there
Leave no deep welts
From your chunky, clumpy boots
Stamping out scars for others to see
Or unwittingly fall into
Cause only the tiniest of imprints
Barely visible, when the daylight hits a certain way
So delicate that a tiny flurry on a gentle breeze
Could softly sweep it smooth, as if you were a ghost