Dusty footprints lie between rocks
ten tiny toes that don't wear socks

The paint drips away from quick, key worn hands
And settles itself in the cooling sand.

Skilled, the artist that captures the sigh
That follows the thoughts of short goodbyes.

Words cannot be misunderstood in red
Especially when they are never said

so

Someday, somewhere, we'll meet again
Adios, and can't wait 'till then

When Ein equals love, you know you are the one
Who gets to walk off into the setting sun

-Ed-