It’s you

I see her again, that girl.
She is sitting, her hair being a mess.
Her eyes are red from tears,
mouth wrinkled.

Rubbing her now dry eyes,
she stood up.
She fixed her hair
and wore a smile.

I decided to approach her.
Closely, closer, and closer.
She also turned and faced me.
In the same way, she walks toward me.

I reach out my hand,
and so did she.
Our hand touched each other,
that cold smooth sensation.

I stared at her intently,
and so did she.
With a smile in both our faces,
I said “Ah, it’s just me.”

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