she speaks. her voice
like water dripping
through the cracks
of my hands.
she points to the sky,
but her eyes don’t leave
my face. she is looking
inside me. she is biting
into my neck. she is stabbing
me in the heart. she is killing,
mourning, dying beside me
in reflection of the window.
silently,
softly.
gently,
together.
she cups my face with her hands.
and then i am the water. i am seeping
through her fingertips. i am falling
and there is no one there to catch me.
the moon watches
as i disappear
into ash.