Cliché
When you enter the room I get no waves or nods,
But I hear silent hellos in the sound of your footsteps slowing down
Ever so slightly
When you pass me by.
There are ripples between us that are remnants of what once was a storm
Some kind of strange electricity.
I feel the water splash against my skin
Gently.
The cold foam against my toes
Makes me ticklish.
I smile.
But the hot sand I stand on
Waiting patiently,
Burns my sole.
And suddenly
I'm in a sunny room full of friends who know you and me.
But are strangers to us.
Unaware.
Just as you are, of me.
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