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.