Down on the streets we walk apart,
I met my love-who-used-to-be.
Her shadowed eyes saw through me straight.
Her dark tint lips were  opened, yet,

Just words came out and nothing less.
No forced desire to undress,
To tangle in that old scooped dance,
Or harsh into a violent mess.

No past or future revealed it tends,
Just ravished dreams who one can spare.
Away she flew as wind in blends,
To grab her arm I did not dare.

A stranger watching, struck with why,
We elseways  drifted down that flow,
Will stand corrected, noted by:
We missed each other years ago.