My feet slipped a little; the heels slid
In the little nooks on the cobbled path
The fresh snow quick and nimble,
Covered my steps: I was never here!
The passerby barely glanced back,
With the merest of double-takes
Almost indiscernible to myopic eyes
Almost. Except for the tingling feeling
On my neck, running down the spine
And I knew. Knew what I didn’t remember.
You were there, you were here-
And not a ghost who’d silently passed by.

About Guria

An Artist in Science: A Misfit 'cause I choose to be one. "Whenever you find that you are on the side of the majority, it is time to reform" And a Maverick, because, I'm... umm... brilliant?
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