When you say goodbye
There is a gap
A canyon between
That final look back

A still misty rift
Dividing the time
When the person was there,
From when you left them behind

After this cleft
Once the severing crevice is scaled
You pick back up your day
And whatever it entails

This sealed pause is not unlike
The quiet accommodation of silence
When one in a group speaks of something
The others must stop and balance

It is not unlike the dainty lull
Between the fall of two raindrops
Smaller than a wandering tear
Yet larger than mountaintops

Or the void which ensues
A breath out before it returns in
Our brief negotiation with nothing
At the parting of skin

Of all things
It is most by far akin
To the rapture between a releasing hand
And the something which was being held within

What is in this gap?
This sighing ravine between stratums
Is it an ocean, a light
In the recess of two atoms

This gap is impossible, as are many
Not a synapse, but a sinew
A ligament to life
Connecting old moment to new

Inside the furrows of this stitch
Is where our lives grow
When grasp of the next
Is bought on by a simple letting go