The Tragic Form

We sit on the kitchen table,

Trying to delay the inevitable,

Staring out into the darkness as we watch

Each hour go by.

You sigh and push closer

Into my body and I feel your shoulder

As my chest rises and falls

With a great longing

And a heartache that threatens to

Stab through ribs and flesh and

Cut through emotion as though a fickle

Blade of grass.

How can this happen so soon?

God clearly has a sense of humour and

Some long lost saying about Absence

Making the heart grow stronger enters

My mind.

People walk past in the dark and glance

In at the window to see two lovers in an

Unhappy embrace and you sigh again

As we both realise that Time is fast

Running short.

I know I should go and make as to move

From the cold hard surface of the kitchen

Table but you again snuggle closer.

I kiss your soft hair,

Immediately realising that not everything

They do in the movies works as I

Tangibly remove strands from my tongue.

I should go.

I move from the table and we walk

Hand in hand to the door and I place my

Palm on the handle.

I don’t want to do this.

I lean forward and kiss her on the cheek,

So smooth and soft and I

Hear a sharp intake of breath as I do so.

With that I open the door,

Say goodbye,

And head outside into the Darkness,

The Wind and the Rain,

Turning once to see you through the

Patterned glass with your back turned,

Hand on your head,

And as I walk away for the last time

Water trickles down my face and

I realise, at long last,

That it is not the rain which I taste in my mouth,

But the harsh, bitter taste of

Tears.