Her eyes ostensibly dreary, her melancholy stride fell as gently as a dead leaf in fall. To me, it is no surprise, There was no way I could know her mind, but I never thought to try
I'm a run of the mill guy, waiting for rain to sedate this blistering heat of a midday in summer. My nerves rattle my calm, and later today when I have my lonely supper, I will remember to unhinge myself, for it has been a busy day, full of bickering and monotone machinery
No I don't hope anyone was by my side, least of all her, What would I even say?
I do not want to ask about her day, If anything, I would sink into a pool of shame Screaming for the drowning jingle jangle of cafes, the silent companionship of an ashtray, but a silent person like her is anything but.
These evenings go by with relative ease, I slip under the rug thoughts that should cease to exist, although I think about her sometimes when I sleep, I've found there is a comforting distance, between life and fantasy.