"Hi." You smiled at me as
your fingertips traced the
edges of the notepad in
your hand.
The pale green leaves
shivered above our heads
as the wind blew through
them softly.
"I'm Azura," you chuckled,
"you probably guessed it,
yes, it does mean blue."
Your eyes fluttered at
the little child running
after their balloon which
flew up to the sky covered
in specks of white cotton
balls.
"Blue sky, actually,
I think it's French."
The little kid's fingertips
caressed the ribbon dangling
by the balloon, only to have
it slip away.
"What is your name?"
And all I did was walk
away. Pathetic, right?
