What I can’t imagine is what it would be like to be with you alone
for just, say, one night?

and in holding your hand and taking a kiss from those talk filled lips (what would it be like)?

And just for a second you exist like the petrichor perfume that turns to window mist after a while of summer rain.

But beneath your dripping wet hair I lie still and stare up
to you and wonder why I can’t be there

So I wait in the square and write your name and say something like
I hope to see you again.