"This is what it was."

This is what we did:

Me; opening a door.

Her; lifting up her head.

This is what we held:

Me; a triangular, hard-edged doorknob.

Her; a piece of paper.

This is what we saw:

Me; sun shining in, darkness, a cliff-drop; beautiful.

Her; stars blinking out, light, a forest; breath-taking.

This is what we thought:

Me; who are you, I wasn’t looking for you but I’m glad I found you.

Her; I don’t know who you are but where have you been, I didn’t know I was looking for you.

This is what we looked on as:

Me; I never want to lose sight of you.

Her; don’t you dare look away from me.

This is what we looked like:

Me; a bee drunk on the sweetness of nectar, swaying towards her, the next flower.

Her; a body doomed to drown at sea, falling towards me, the bottom.

This is what we wanted to say:

Me; I want to know you and if I can’t at least let me breathe you in for a second.

Her; I have to know you or I’ll never really ever breathe again.

This is what we should have said:

Me; Hey!

Her; Hello!

This is what saying looked like:

Her; wide shocked eyes, white knuckles, a cornered wild animal, like I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong, I didn’t mean to say that.

Me; jaw dropped in surprise, tongue licking chapped lips, a tightly wrung spring, like why would you say that, how could you think that, I would never.

This is what we said:

Her; are you here to kill me; as if asking how’s the weather.

Me; not yet; as if saying the weather’s good.

This is what we said next:

Her; okay.

Me; okay.

This is what we thought of next:

Her; me, drop the silence, it’s getting heavy.

Me; her, break the silence, say something.

This is what we did next:

Her; looking down at her piece of paper.

Me; swinging the door shut at her.

This is what we ignored of our hearts:

Her; wrenching out to her chest, pulsing in her hand, telling her to stop me.

Me; twisting in my chest, refusing to beat back to normal, saying go back to her.

This is what we said to ourselves:

Her; the timing’s wrong, we’ll try again someday.

Me; there’ll be another chance, we’ll get it right.

This is what we kept repeating:

Her; this isn’t goodbye, we’ll meet again.

Me; this isn’t goodbye, we’ll meet again.

This is what we didn’t know:

It was.