Trying to stop her mouth smiling backwards. That bastard backward smile catches you so unaware. His boots loosely pointing away from her clenched toes, leans in and kisses her on the cheek. A kiss that reeks of detachment. That decision to mate souls got all fucked about, its amazing how melancholy and united liberations are so much more revolting under the glare of sunshine. “Ill call you,” he alleged as he walked away. Her gaze anaesthetized, the corners of her mouth turned vaguely downwards. In that moment there was no pain, or elation, definitely no reflection. She watches him, until he’s around the corner. Turning around, posture seems unbearable to hold, loosing the clumsy grip around the heel of her shoe she collapses to the pavement with it. Body warped around her blistered feet in the road, was the exact moment the world revealed its limits.