A pale gleam like shimmering snow,
I search for you in places I have yet to know.
My mind blanks with every word you say, who’d have thought you’d infect me this way.
Like a sheet of paper, so soft and thin.
you’re an elderflower growing from within,
I hate the thought of a stupid cliche,
but I wish I’d met you in a dingy cafe.
I’m a pair of converse that dirty quick,
And you’re a puddle of mud, deep and thick.
Frankly you’re quite rude and have already found your calling,
but you see the thing is, I’m a feather and I’m falling.