Disposable poetry

you never look for me and yet my eyes find yours my words do not reach you and yet your eyes find mine all this may never be and yet this verse implores...  you vanish like the dew and yet, at night, you shine  

It was a night like this: soft rain over the street; cold wind presaged a kiss from lips and eyes so sweet with light so full of bliss. She was so delicate, -and yet so spirited!- She was quite elegant, and with grand grace gifted. Though the kiss never came and the night ended quick, right here remains the flame. Or perchance just embers... shadows of memory. There she goes; here I stay.