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| To Watch You Leaving . . . is to know such pain, it's jagged edges tearing into my soul. As a stake from the garden tears into the warm, dark earth. To Watch You Leaving . . . knowing all the while that never again will I fit myself, warm with sleep, against your solid back. Nor hear your steady breathing. Or feel the beating of your heart. To Watch You Leaving . . . aware in every moment of every day that my dreams, my future; once tied with silken ribbons to yours, will never come to be. And the mornings once so silent and hopeful, us gazing at the mountains and so gently awaiting forever - are now but small pieces of my past. To Watch You Leaving . . . your heart a tight fist of anger and your dry eyes betraying nothing of you. I cry for both of us, my love, because you will not. To Watch You Leaving . . . is to know that I've lost my place on this earth. My station. My heart's home. That I will wander, forever a nomad. Alone and afraid. And in my troubled dreams watch you leave, again and again. For the balance of my days. |
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