It will be like this
or perhaps some other way.
You will pass me by
and leave behind an Everest
of looking away.
You will look back
and trip over my fragrance
while I will be in
mortal combat and draw
last breath to move on.
Back in our own nests
we will regret having lost
the last sight of each other.
You will live in doubt
of my passing and
I will mourn the death of that moment.
