The hair in your face separates lightly
looking down at your shoes.
The ringing noise
of the background
characters we are
and it seems we enjoy the silence
the wet floors and high light.
Sometimes walking past the same streets
your scent still lingers
it twists and turns making my stomach churn.
Sleepy eyes that look like a falling moons
I wish sometimes to rest in them
Again your image still is not faded
  incompatible with the reality
That you are you and I am.
As I chose my escape over your coven
Where I was merely decoration to your light.