Every movement says,
I am leaving you.
With too thick lipstick smile
and casual flip of hair, she says,
Don’t look for me tomorrow. I won’t be there.
Her touch already gone.
She dances sad eulogy—that final parting—
drunken caresses forgotten, her touch breaking
     every promise of forever,
and she never waves hello.
Her laugh only memory.
The scent of her tears a cry from the past,
I am lost!
And there is nothing to be done.
No way to hold her, no way to keep her
     to yourself,
loving her lonely fantasy.
She’s meant to haunt many.
A shadow, a shape, an unseen form,
a ghost with pennies for eyelids!
In darkness a pleasure unknown or tasted,
     shed hair on your pillow your only proof.
And she’s gone.
And she’s gone.
As you knew she would be.
From the first touch, that dry kiss, her lopsided grin,
gone.

I love you always her way of saying,
goodbye.

christopher…. ‘06