You see her walking in front of your eyes, all wrapped up in a enchanting daze, with her head in the clouds, with her thoughts on anything but you; your head hurts from all this painful wondering whether she knows or not;whether she will learn or not; whether there is hope or you wiped it away.
Years pass and you are still bewildered by her mature appearence, as she finds a new job, and you remain there, static, stupified, baffled about how breath-taking a woman can be, still incapable of speaking a word to her, tell her what kind of sentimental war has started in your heart, how hard it is to keep your eyes and mind away from her, how it hurts not to be able to touch her hands and warm her.
You are both old, but the difference is that time affected you, while it left her beauty untouched. As if she is still the young girl walking in front of you and doing her tricks and casting her spells on your tormented soul. Your eyes crave her as much as anything in the world, but your mouth is paralyzed, still unable to speak the words of love you have hidden inside you for too long. And you silently watch her walk away, as the first touches of white appear on her hair.
