Her

It is her whom I stalk.

Analyze the movements of the silk strands.

Observe the walk.

Capture her posture: the way she stands

Eat the heart away with every glance.

She’ll remain dancing in the sky.

While I observe through the cracks of light in the gravel

I wish I could be with her and forever fly.

And dance, sing, and travel.

Through the clouds, with her hand intertwined with mine

But wishes are wishes, and dreams are dreams.

Love can torture the soul.

And though her light still beams

It has swallowed me whole.

And her beauty left me to die without a warning.

We can never be one.

She is just a beautiful painting stuck in my brain.

I will never be thrilling to her; there will never be any fun.

And I’ve come to realize that this attempt at love is vain.

Because if I really loved her,

That man who took her would have never won the game.