a figure,
a person,
a beautiful creature stands;
towering over you with a delighted, but distraught grin tipped at the ends of each cheek he holds
something more valuable carved in his hands in great attempt for discreet
but he is behind you, always
you turn only to feel his presence lingering for a tiring, taunting second
a pained, dried inhale
a relieved, steady exhale
but the breath is not returned as yours
maybe you can ask him to linger in your tender air
and stay, slowly swaying against his breath,
but you could let him fly instead;
instead of brushing through broken, braided ties of your hair