Movement

You move
farther away.
I feel it deeply.
This ripple of rhythm
touches and
brushes over me,
sparks
and disappears.
Only for a moment.
Inspiring me to follow
not you but suit
to move myself.
Slow and inconsistent
but realistically renovating.
Only for a moment.
But a moment nonetheless.
I reach
with my hand in my pocket
then turn
and move a small but necessary step.
It burns
and I close my eyes.
A temporary solution.
It is a movement.
It is real.
But only for a moment.