As she walks behind your steps,
Silently, slightly,
Not a trace
You can get a hint
On how she hunts while walking,
Sober, soberan, wielding grace.
Even though she'd show up
At shape and color you're able to sense
At her minimalist self
At volume and flesh,
Her skin fresh as innocence,
It's ethereal.
Like an opaque storm she unfolds upon you,
Thorn flesh and naked conscience,
You stay when you shouldn't
An run when you couldn't
Be cautious of her deepest self,
Yet you see
At her feet you're not brave
To stand it,
Fearful, thoughtful,
Can't help but crave.
So she lets it,
Like destiny would stop at her laws,
Waiting for her
To move her pawns,
She walks behind your steps.
There's a joy on her walking,
Following, captivating,
For you go unnoticed,
And the world behind you glares
The beauty at your back
While everyone stares.
There's an inner grown smile
As you stop for the traffic
And complain a bit
And the lights are lit
So she can keep walking.
You wouldn't dare think how it'd hurt
To let go of her skirt
When she'd been your sister
For there's something on her
You just can't get
She's the joy of a night
You can't forget
And the comfort of a day
You felt peace.
She dances behind your back
To a song you'd never listen,
Wind and moon as testimonies,
You stare at no vision.
Her dress is sure more colored
Than you can remember.
It dresses her, honored,
As the fabric floats to her steps.
Her mortality feels like a race
And it costs you
For she walks behind
And you're further lost.
