The charm… the grace
The faces, the fears
The hotness of winters
And the loudness of tears.
The words, and the gestures,
The wishes left hanging in the air
Only if it could’ve become a private joke.
Little gestures made within indecision.
The sweet breeze hungover with cheer.
The storm rolling inland bears the promise,
Of bringing new showers and more promises.
Unspoken and yet, somehow too obvious.
The arms, the chills, those never quite felt.
The white sea, the foam and frizz.
The damage done the first time
She knows will stay to harm more.