There is a silence,
when in that moment
our dreams have gone,
we need now a rebuild.
There beneath the waves of grief,
enveloped in showers,
the running tears of our reality,
become a necessary ladder to less painful
I remember standing still,
watching the world begin a new chapter next door,
in my world, a tobacco stream,
silence among the books,
I just hoped we might sort through them together,
a lazy afternoon,
I came home with that visual desire,
the books had been sorted,
the room emptier than even an hour before.
I stood still and said good-bye,
I just always wondered why.