It scatters outward from this inner shell,
Settling around my heart from afar
And feeding inside where the pains all dwell,
Which says nothing ever of who we are.
I would make that mistake time and again
Of brushing past your soul one rainy day
And turning to see you swept by the wind.
In your eyes my balance is stripped away.

But empty is the touch, silent the word,
When I can't see your face, or your smile,
When your soft voice inside me goes unheard.
I'd like to take the time to think awhile,
But I fear that in time all things pass.
Oh, how that leaves me so deathly afraid
That this will leave our grasp soon, and alas,
All in vain will be the chances we made.