4OE

She sits there, waiting peacefully,

On the grass above the beach.

She sits so still, so tranquil,

Yet already out of reach.

 

Flowing hair frames her forlorn face -

Gold like an Autumn leaf.

You match her short, sharp breathing;

Chests disturbed by disbelief.

 

The ocean-blue before your eyes

Drowned out by streaming tears.

An aching pain begins to build

Between your burning ears.

 

You’ve never heard a single phrase

That split your heart in two

Until these words escape her mouth:

“I really wanted it to be you.”