I Travelled To Wyoming

this afternoon.
Listening, to your guitar,
your voice.
Wyoming is not really you,
but where first, I heard you.
And the other one,
leads to the other.

I see you both,
you singing,
drawing her nearer,
she, swaying to the music,
drifting closer.
It will never be,
her desires,
You are far away,
across the ocean.
She, the one,
imprisoned forever,