everything you are,
i crave.

she noticed him from across the playground, a rock clasped in his intertwined fingers, staring, his gaze steady, ignoring the puddle in front of him and the voices that echoed and bounced off his impenetrateable bubble. she wanted to talk to him, but people took her by the hand and led her away, telling her stories, offering her honeyed words and all the popsicles she wanted. the little girl agreed, confused. she never knew what to do anyway.

sometimes it rained. sometimes she cried and sometimes he did. sometimes the mist grew and draped a shroud over their eyes. sometimes snow would fall and settle and form icicles in her heart. but his remained warm. he still stood at the corner, rock in hand, staring. he was always there.

yet she returns and leaves time and time again, pretending not to see the tears in his eyes and how weary his hands were. she was selfish and mean and couldn't understand why he would still stay there, knowing well how little she was worth and often asks why. she thought she wore her guilt and pain on her sleeve, so no one would talk to her. even so, months go by and he still stands there quietly, staring.

but now she stands on the other corner staring back. they watch each other silently, smiles slowly spreading across their flushed faces for the first time. For the first time, a stare said everything.