Lost and lonely,
he lay broken on the ground.
He cried out, but no one heard the sound.

Then she whispered,
in a voice wild and free.
I am the wind, my sweet, come run with me.

The way she danced,
the way she moved across his skin.
Her fleeting kiss, that made him feel something again.

He loved her for her softness,
and for the way, that she moved through him.
He loved her, because he knew, that she would never be his.