(So, the prose is actually longer, it's about 3 paragraphs, but I don't know that I like what I added. That's how my prose always are... I never know where to go next. I'd really like to do something with this other story where I have the opening, and a few random scenes that would follow (but not in order) but I have no actual plot, nor any idea where I want it to go. So anyway, here are a few sentences of a prose, and then a really random "poem" that I wrote)
They rode around the estate on their bikes -- he with his wide-tire road bike and she with her street bike and basket on the handlebars. Occasionally, he would detour towards a tree to pluck a blossom and throw it in her basket. She laughed every time.
your words swirl around me.
They float away from each other,
losing meaning with distance.
I debate grasping at them,
but there are so many of them,
and it might be a bit obvious…
I focus on your face, instead,
and hope your features will stay put
better than your words.
Close my eyes,
I cannot recall the details of you --
two eyes, one nose, one mouth
that seems to speak sans cesse.
If only you would actually SAY something.