The Girl By The window

The girl by the window,

Ephemeral flare,

She sits all alone

As the wind stirs her hair,

Just gazing at cobwebs 

Which drift in the light,

Smiling to no one,

Her lips pinched quite tight.

The world moves about her,

But she doesn’t drift.

The space between us,

It cuts like a rift.

And though I don’t know her,

Not even her name,

I know she’s the one

And she knows the same.