Goodbye

He watched her in her deepest sleep, 

The tiny tendrils, spun gold stars, 

warped with silvers, greys. 

To know her now was akin to eternity. 

The brittle, broken skin that wrapped

this silent angel, in his eye, was still

the creamy bliss of 

yesterday.

He closed his eyes and heard the 

laughter - light and lilting. It was the

song where now was only silence. 

Ragged breathing, fading. 

He traced the tiny lines and folds

that caressed her face; these were

the touches of the hands 

of time. 

A roadmap to their ended story. 

They came and went, those aging

reminders of the times they loved, 

the times they lost. They were their

own now - relics only.

No more a part of them than time. 

He held her as the wings enfolded

her. He listened, with her head

against his breast, as she faded 

into his memory. 

And even in the night, when the

walls grew dark and drew about him,

he felt her there, looming in the dark-

ness. Always near. 

Even in the silence, there she was,

A reminder of what could never

be. For the truth was clear, 

transparent to his eye. 

Dust and ash. Nothing more.