There’s history in the way she looks at him.
The way she pretends not to call out his name.
A sudden surge of hope and fear and longing,
Wondering if you knew he loved you the same.
When you are together, there’s a burning blaze,
Unfolding into an almost perfect storm.
It’s a faint glow that you can see in the dark,
A tender, delicate creature void of form.
They say they don’t love each other anymore.
They say he’s moved on and that she’s been set free.
But it’s the way that he smiles and looks at her,
That tells me their love will never cease to be.