She stood on the dock: legs crossed and hair swept by the breeze,
which billowed over the waves until it ran through the trees.
He was quiet inside, but his voice overtook, behind his words were true feelings he tried to overlook.
So he made the stroll to the dock, to the breeze, to her.
“What are you doing?” he asked, as she turned with a start.
There was no need to lie, to try and look smart
as her fingers traced constellations that they knew by heart.
She could tell he was true, that this was meant to be, so she invited him into her world, saying:
“I’m living, darling, would you like to join me?