On that evening we had decided
that you and I were not meant to be,
but a final walk along the sea
might make the end a bit easier.
You had packed all your stuff already,
and carried your brown suitcase with you,
as if you would step and walk away
over the waves. You looked holier.
We sat, watched our earth move from the day,
the sky went from blue to indigo.
You were still here and I held your hand,
tomorrow was bound to come too soon.
Another day gone, another end.
What mattered most, or what mattered less,
at that moment we had no idea
only that we bonded with the moon.
You whispered my name like you loved me,
the moon was almost full above us,
we had no time to waste or to spite;
the ferry would take you anyway.
But we made some memories that night,
a ship sailed by in silent movement,
all in our lives seemed meant to be.
In spite of so much, you did not stay.