Another Image for Your Starving Eyes

She walks small steps, slowly.

LIke when they first fell in love.

She goes in and out of the room. leaving, always leaving.

His heart sounds like a a door closing. closing. closing. Could it really have changed? The same beat she used to think played in her heart come nights without him. Was it all just love's illusion? It's different now, or was this just another?

The cold gathers on her arms and she walks away yawning. It's time to redefine this. To establish this.

It's time to close doors and open the windows. It's time to air out all this stagnant air.

She remembers a song that encapsules this. Nutshells, she'll think with a laugh.