To the unnamed Neither she nor I know what to say. But speak we must. For our existences are bound, in manners unspoken. The tickle of her eyebrow in my breast, the singer.
Leaves crackle as the strangers walk by unconcerned.
Its me and her, and this ethereal beauty. Vini Vidi Vici Lost forever. None can ever interrupt. None can ever steal. I am her, and she is me.