I don't remember, any more,
The exact shape of your hands
As I held them in mine,
Caressed them,
Memorized the length of your fingers,
The depth of your calluses.

I don't remember, any more,
Exactly your height, how much
Taller than me
You were, where
My head rested on your chest
When you held me tightly close.

I don't remember, any more,
Your scent, when we lay together
Creating our own
Magic rhythm,
Matching our heartbeats as we
Touched the sky, together.

I don't remember, any more,
The sound of your voice, calling
My name as though
It were a song
Within itself, a precious treasure
You valued with all your being.

And I don't remember, any more,
The color of your eyes, the shape
Of your lips,
Only...
How your eyes crinkled at the corners
And your laugh, as you told me,

"I love you."

I walked into the bathroom,
ran into her yet again
at the witching hour
and smiled solemnly.

"You're not looking your best,"
I said.

Her smile fell just a hint,
but she kept up her head.

"You're quite the beautiful
disaster yourself."

I don't think our eyes
are smiling anymore,
but her red lips remain upturned.

She's pale.
Her eyes are dark underneath.
She probably couldn't sleep;
well, it's why I was there.

We stood staring in silence,
each evaluating the other
as enemies,
as friends.

I wonder when the last time
was that we saw each other
with the same thoughts
in mind;

the last time when we agreed
with the other;

when we looked our best;
when crying;
when laughing;

just gazing at each other
on the same wavelength.

But she's still smiling
without smiling,
and so am I.

"Goodbye," I nod to her.

She nods back.
"I'll see you again,"
she whispers with a smile.