PART I
the walk was cold
the wind bitter against my skin
the walk was worth it
to the beach i went
i sat on a forgotten bench
watching waves crash against sand
a lighthouse abused by the rough water
the wind so cold and fast, my lungs couldn't take it in
i didn't stay long, but it was enough
PART II
she walked into class
she was almost late
her cheeks a dusty red
her hair tangled and wind-blown
her breaths jagged and desperate
i bet her hands were cold to the touch
she looked so distraught yet so beautiful
i wondered what she did at lunch
for her to smell of the lake
and sand to fall from her shoes
PART III
she walked to the beach again
but this time he followed
it was windy and frigid,
and a slow drizzle came from the sky
when she sat on that bench
he sat beside her and said it was cold
and she nodded, 'but isn't it beautiful?'
and he said nothing as the wind was too fast for his lungs
and they walked to music class together
with cheeks stained red
and fingers intertwined
PART IV
what a shame it was
that now she only walked to the beach alone
on every cold day
PART V
what a shame it was
that now when the wind was to fast for his lungs
he thought of her
a.l.m
