I watch two lovers alone in a crowd,
Their breath holds each other softly.

One exhale,
Cool on the skin of my lips.

Your words melt in my hands,
And water the grass at my feet,

That grows green with the thought of you.
For we long for the memory of your touch.

I would die each night beside you,
To see tears stain your parchment cheeks,

Each tear luminous and fleeting,
Never will anything so valuable fall for me.

I breath life in,
Hoping for nothing more than a chance.

And only wishing I could offer you more
Than such a little death