when there's nothing more to say you listen for the resigned sigh watch for the slump in the shoulder and search the face for a sign, any sign
when there's nothing else to say you begin to pack and hope against hope there might be a relenting though you know it's all cast in stone here and now it's been a long time coming and you've always known
when everything's been done and the crack's too wide to close the words of the sages dance before your weepy eyes wantonly jeering at your foolish heart that would be moved by so macabre a dance of dead hopes and twitching dreams
when you've had your last glance of one once so dear you grit your teeth, carry your rucksack and take the open road to a place that's always been your unspoken destination in truth arrival is a time for fallacies and myths to dissipate
i find that parting is always so traumatic - any parting. you always wonder if you've done all you could have done.