Closing up, observing: rushes.
Walking away, blurring: slows.
Counted one by one, mixed the other’s, the outcoming sound waves, relentless. Erratic.
Overlying hollow strokes, rise our chest.
Echoing in the distance that makes us strangers.
It’s only if I pass through and breathe your scent, I put in, you.
The pace tunes, gentle, one the other.
In two, over there, a silent breathe hearing.
Not any noise.
The silence is the room in two heartbeat.