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