things fall apart the way glass cracks and falls
from window panes
so I was all that you loved
then among what you cherished
and finally, nothing at all
something you could lose without consequence

I sometimes wish that I'd held our parting kiss
just a bit longer
held your gaze the morning after, well, after...
I dream of it, truthfully, our final moments:
I look up at you and smile
tip my head back
and part my lips as if to invite a meeting--
and I sigh.

you start to speak, and I feel myself falling
falling past you
hearing only the dry, bell-twinkling of breaking
glass.

 

angela giroux