The silhouette.

She gasps and then she asks her not to take her back..She pleads, she implores but an exit finds she none.She leads her by the hand with the faintest of whisper, a lure that cannot be resisted.The spokes of the wheel that turn to a blur.Knees that bend with the swift, smooth run.Scrawny trees and drizzles that wet the tip of her nose.The sidewalk.That mirage in the distance that was a real lake.The stream ahead that was a parched pit. The sun that always set too early and rose never on time.The smile that cast a spell and the pimple that remained.The bags that got lighter and the books that felt heavier. The giggles in the wallet and the burnt photographs.Of tears that never fell and joys that lasted longer.A time that never existed and hence was never remembered. The calls that never ended and the phone that never rang.Those high heels that were oh so cute and the sneakers that gave her back some rest.The chocolates that never melted and the peanuts that rolled off the table. The tap on the cheek and the kiss she never wanted.The love that they made and the sex that was mourning. Some laughs they got louder and the gaze that drifted longer. The street that got closer and the bridge that went farther.The silhouette that captivated and tormented.