With a heavy handed voice coming softly of course, the girl repeated her command. I have come all this way without shoes or protective layer, who amongst you speaks my language? With eyes so cleverly disguised she watched the crowd intently, to see who would step forward. From there in the dead center, she could hear their song, eyes turned at the intrusion his words slightly above a whisper. In that blessed moment Violet waived the others away, allowing his voice to be the only reasonable sound. Violet stood over her beloved the poet and his lyrical words there with his ink-stained fingers she smiled at the sight of him. In lock step with each other Violet simply offered a kiss, against a thousand blinks and sighs he bent gently forward kissing the tip of her nose. Violet wanted more of him, oh the hours she’d spent with him in the dark recesses in her mind. She looked back at him, surprised by his playful kiss and with that little shy grin she whispered just to him “Come find me, when you’re ready to…” And just like that, Violet stormed blissfully away wishing her poet would come and follow.