You're like a shadow on a canvas flirting.
Some charcoal line that is just forming
A flame-flickering or is it dancing
I'm listening to the air crackling
Eyes widening gaze, hesitantly-stare
You're like static electricity
Drawing-me-closer, a strobe light pulsing
My heart beating erratically
It's hard to breathe; I don't know why exactly.
The trauma of dementia is never really-framed
Magically you're there? Even though - I'm all alone.