Was it the tremor
But I wasn't alone
You came forward
Into the crowd we were thrown
Where did you come from
Never did ask
Your movements synced deeply
The few moments of chance
ForĀ a good conversation
All is left is a glimpse of your face
It sits in my head
'Bye ***' to be your last word
You stepped back
I let go
(c)near_lane7
Sweet moments
Flatfielder is near_lane7