When I write.

Salty departure

breathless empty perfume visions torment solitude wearied linger

Breathless, I stand before him,
Allowing my perfume to linger,
I move slowly and carelessly,
Knowing the torment it causes him.
I look at him with an empty gaze,
That will cause him visions of our times together,
Wearied but still hoping,
He'll keep waiting on the other side of the glass in solitude.
Forever and ever and ever...