Isn’t physically quick or agile.

Disappears in libraries.

Has been known to dissolve into the physical pages of books.

Is good at tucking herself into the stacks and retreating to reading nooks.

Blends in at coffee shops where her voice can be drowned out by the grinding and the steaming.

Can become indistinguishable in the dark of theatres, in the quiet shuffle of art galleries, the finger-snapping of poetry readings, the hum and jostle of the Tube.

Is indistinct. Adept at hiding in plain sight.

For it was in that one moment, suspended from fleeting, if only for that very specific moment, that nothing else mattered. And it was perfec

The touch of the sunlight,
the warmth of the water
dancing around our ankles,
smell the salt in the air,
fresh and clean and pure.
Little tastes of happiness.
But it's never enough for you.

You think that happiness is a state,
like liquid or gas, something you stay in.
But happiness is in the fleeting moments,
the laughter of friends,
hot chocolate, sweet and smooth
with little marshmallows.

Dancing in the rain,
wearing your favorite shirt,
a walk through the woods,
a hug just a little longer than usual,
the warmth of someone else's arms.
These fleeing moments are
where you find happiness.

How I adore those fleeting moments
Wrapped in lace and tender touches.
Those intimate instances where the heart is flooded by butterfly kisses,
and the body ignited by fire.
I long for love's innocence
By the voice you whisper late at night.
I long for love's passion,
By your lips pressed gently against my own.
I long for love's warm embrace,
By your arms when the world crumbles beneath my feet.
But most of all,
More than anything,
I long for you.
My love.
My kerosene.
I only wished,
You longed for that love too.

You say you love me,
But you won't hold my hand.
You say you'll love me,
But you'll run and not look back.
You say you've loved me,
But you never want to dance.
You say you'd love me,
But not for who I am.
You said you loved me,
But I know you never have.

I realize we were like flame.
With a single spark,
suddenly it was warm and bright.
But just like fire,
a simple blow of the wind
made everything dark and cold.
There was never really something special,
but the fleeting and tepid moments ablaze. Now what remain are the burnt parts
and the things
that will never be the same again.

cast
                a stone
                       into the      sea
           and see
                    how the salt
gasps
              into a   gaping

wound.

    don’t blink;
it heals quicker
   than a wink.
                       not even its froth
can glance
at the magic.

His love
Was as fleeting
As that summer
We met.