Ours is not a story favored by fate.
We always end up not more than an inch apart
So close that if I scoot over just a bit,
My fingers would brush yours in a whisper of a touch.
Yet I never dared to move
And neither did you.
Bit by bit,
The distance between us whittles away
Until mere millimeters separate you from me.
Still, I never dared to move
And neither did you.
Even up close, you're like a mirage;
A fantasy that could shatter with the faintest touch.
If I never dare to move,
I wonder...
Will you?