I search for you--
through tinted glass in paralleled lines
of death machines driving steadily
towards a destination unknown--
I search for the scent that may linger
along the trail in which you travel.
My eyes follow black cars,
one of them--by chance--may contain you
with your loud industrial thrill-like sounds
and your sweet hidden smile behind
a milky, shaded view.
Desperate to smell, to taste, to feel it again;
I will circle round once more to where we once stood
eager in youth and foolish in pride.
So when we mix in glee or confusion
I can reach passed the walls placed between us
by unrecognizable fear of losing--lost we have become--
and together we will fight for it as we should have,
would have done, in the first place
had we not been so blind to our own naivety.