Skin to Skin, for the Last Time

Skin to skin for the last time.

-

Legs cautiously tangled, two bodies asleep but

still responding to touch,

-

a much appreciated peace, however brief,

in the face of what we knew was coming.

-

The breeze through the windows as delicate as the hours passing,

the lights slowly shifting through a

variety of colours

and the city streets outside

slowly coming back to life, revived,

-

the smell of wet pavements, moisture slowly being

lifted by the sun,

a hundred delivery trucks and

chefs preparing, hushed shouts,

the bus stop across the street now busy,

a warning sign that time is up.

-

A slow walk home beneath the morning sun, a

new loneliness sitting in your chest, a freezing fist,

you get the gist, shudder at the feeling of loss

you can hardly comprehend this early,

-

start switching between different screens

forever swiping, searching,

no results, still.

-

The inside of your room a burning question, jagged,

violent,

the mirror reflecting

the way you said goodbye,

everything reflecting

the hurt behind your eyes.