She sips from his lips

until they are dry,

dry like the leaves that crunch

beneath her boots.

Her eyes shine clear,

pools that could quench his thirst.

But they do not.

He holds her closer than

he should.

He has one arm round her waist,

the other on her chest.

It's so close to her heart,

and yet so far.

She watches the sunset,
not knowing she is his sun,
not seeing close to what he sees
when he looks at her.
Her mind is on other things,
her soul uninterested in a mate.

He wonders, sometimes, who she is
deep, deep down.
If she's really everything
he believes in
or if perfection is a shade's trick.

She murmurs 'I love you'
when she feels
his too focused gaze.

He smiles bright
and the darkness flees (for now)
because he loves her too.