tears in her eyes, huddled close to a warm shoulder,
and somewhere in between taking a deep breath,
and trying to find a reason to continue crying,
she rubbed her tiny nose on her father's expensive t-shirt.
he held her close, for he knows
that's what t-shirts are for.
that's what shoulders are for.
because when the tears just refuse to stop
and your heart is wondering why your mind refuses to cry,
we look up and realise that shoulders ask no questions.
the entire universe in the length of your shoulders;
your collar bones straining against the weight of the world,
the scars from a fight, long forgotten, shining in the dark
the curve of your neck, like the oceans meeting the horizon.
the rise and fall of your chest, as you sleep for three minutes
while i count the stars so that i don't fall asleep too.
wake up, darling. it's time to go.
the sun will be up any minute now,
and the mountains bow to offer their respects
as you straighten your shoulders, take a deep breath
and kiss me goodbye.
and i pull the sheets closer, hug the pillow your neck rested on,
i rub my nose into the warmth.
the pillows don't complain either, and i imagine they are you
holding me close as i count the minutes
until i get to see you again.