His line, just one … she wrote all thoughts beyond.
Young in some ways … fresh another thing!
Thing is, she did, now didn’t anymore.
She burst his lines with colour … left broken crayons on the floor.
Her distance, his whisper … no echo of ‘I love you.’
Tell me, show me, doing nothing killing you in me…
His need her every day … her need his now and then
He thought he’d lost her … that why she walked away
of and to strangers
relative and otherwise
of him yet not …
He half-thought – she thought the other…