In that moment, her face is so close to mine.
She’s talking, and she’s talking, in a softer than native tongue,
and though I understand, I am not listening.
I’m preoccupied,
slowly watching the last of my oxygen float away,
brushing across my cheek until slowly,
it drifts to the surface of her eyes, surrounded by blue, and an inklike iris.
below these puddles on her face was milky skin,
dotted with molecular shades of auburn spilled across cheeks, and a nose crinkled in laughter, spilling from the curve of slightly chapped lips
Hair the yellow-white of flutterbye roses laced between her fingertips in brief waves, rolling past her shoulders and resting softly by her side.
But this is all but a moment, worded as a stare
a moment unobserved, and unrequited by the girl who for an instant took away my air
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