Blisters on my Feet

The music drifted through the dark room as she swayed alone.
She wished he was with her.
She wanted to be perched beside him watching him work. Marveling at his artistry.
Her desire was to have the music on, spinning her tales while he worked away beside her in his own creative haze.
A pause in their dreaming to kiss, smile at one another and then back to their respective works.

She spun in a circle and then paused before the window.
A super moon was out. Huge. Bright. A night time sun was brightening the world and showing its beautiful pock marked face.

She felt the stab of pain in her heart. She missed him.
He just left. No words. No answer. But he remains within sight and that hurts the most.

Grabbing a dry erase marker she wrote on the window so the moon could illuminate her message to him.

I have blisters on my feet from dancing alone with your ghost.

The tears rolled down her cheeks as she stood in the moonlight alone, heart aching.