We never really even talked before
but it was not like we really needed to.
This pit in my stomach was squeezed
and with clinched fists, and swollen lips
I’m struggling to resist the sway from your hips.

Your long, chestnut locks framing your face
into something of legend, that only painters
with an exceptional eye for beauty could fathom.
The writers of old have written of you
in fairytales, and yet here you stand,
unfettered from your prison that bound you.

Before me.
Above me.
Beyond me.

And then, there you were, standing beside me
until fate brought you crashing down upon me.
The winter’s breath carrying my air away.
My stare fixed upon your hazel colored soul traps.
Captivated, as you ebbed the flow of the world
around us into a slow-motion moving picture show.

“Is this really happening?” I whisper to myself.

Your eyes flutter and close to invite me in
and for a brief moment, caught in surprise
I hesitate and let the winter’s wind go…
And with it, sailed my chances to taste
the lips of this, the most exquisite being
to have ever come into existence.

In the next moment, you realized your place,
took to your feet and left in the company
of someone more much deserving.
As much as this was unnerving,
I was left to wander,
forever onward.

So close to this beauty, unbound.
Touching my fingertips,  
gently rolling off,
then falling to the ground.

To this day, I am still uncertain of your existence.
Were you merely a figment of my over-active imagination
or were you just another instance of what happens
when you leave the window open for too long?