You utter this word every time you leave. Your perfume lingers, but you do not. You are cut off by the slam of the door you shut behind you.

    You and I, we have never said goodbye. Even though the sneaky word escapes our lips sometimes.

    But, no more! For from Death, I am reclaiming custody of Goodbye and this romantic notion of “only in death do we say goodbye” I will happily trade for her.

    She may have snored like a trooper, made tea super bitter, been a looter .… but we never should have given her up.

    We have never said goodbye. But I want to start.

    I want to look into your eyes and ...