as the wind…
he touches her with finality,
fingers lingering a moment too long,
as if to memorize the feel of her skin.
there are no words,
just urgent hands and
breaths begging for contact
with something a little more permanent.
(she pushes a palm to his
heart, pressing her
truth to the lying muscle).
his fingers nod their understanding,
tapping to a rhythm their lives had forgotten.
(her cheeks are wet with goodbyes,
it was always meant to end this way).