She walked slowly,
the gentle breeze kissing her visage.
She took to long walks;
drowned in the depths of her thoughts.
“Who are you?” is the question
silently whispered to the wind.
“Where are you?” is the shout of
determined steps on the pavement.
What if in the millions of footsteps
there’s one that belonged to you.
What if in those long travels
she had already seen you?
You were the color of her imagination,
the shadow of her memory.
You rule in her subconscious;
to truth she was oblivious.
Oh it’s such a tragedy,
When truth mingles with fantasy,
When all one could do is assume,
When there was never a way to confirm.
But though you’re a King she never met;
A dream she would never get,
the thought of you brings comfort
at times when she couldn’t think straight.