I think the hardest part
was turning my heart from my chest.

Peeling the soft tissue from my sleeve,
pulse still twitching
veins still bleeding-

And ****,
it hurts, Love.

Like wrapping a bandage too tight;
Like hearing a banshee's keening-
Inevitable endings
turned to soft reassurance.

Tell me-
will you mourn me
like so many have before?

Will you grieve the future we dreamed of
that will now never come to fruition?

I am not as selfish as the Kings that came before me;
and for that, I am sorry.

I don't have the heart
to hide your animal skins
from your arms.

Nor will I curse you
with misery
upon misery.

I have loved you far too much for that.

I have known you far too well for that.

Instead:
Hold your hands to my heart, love.

Cradle me
Crown me
And let me bear wittness to your loveliness
just once last time.

I've known I had to leave,
200 years have passed
as you hold tight to me-
the years have been so kind to you, dear.

But you don't know that;
to you it's only been a heartbeat.

(Time works differenly here, afterall)

I'll don my coat,
soft seal skin sticking to my scars
as I turn back homeward;
as the waves open their maw to welcome me.

I will tell your stories for years to come.
I will dream of your arms,
of the future we designed to save us from dark days.

I pray you will forgive me, mi vida.

I pray we'll meet again,
on a distant day when we have assured steady footing.

I pray that you remember
my heart is ever yours.