A Parting Glance

I want to fall into you,
Like butter on warm toast,
Snow on a summer day,
The fragrance of a slow cooked roast.

But you recede like ocean tides,
Evaporate like desert rains,
The sun sinking beaneath the mountains,
Making me insane.

I follow your gaze elsewhere,
to the porcelain face of that girl,
"She is all the better" I think,
The luckiest girl in the world.