Starstruck. This pastel display
you’ve painted. The sky. Your eyelids.
Your scarves and skirts. You only
penciled me in. Once. I had to
run into you, a splash of water
in your landscape. A speck in your space.
Your carved-right-out-of-citrine face.
Cracks a smile. Cracks my andesine heart.
Dumbstruck. My greeting is an ash grey
storm cloud swirling around you. You
shake me off as soot, then fade away.
Image by Enrique Meseguer from Pixabay