188 by Wakefield Mahon
But you tell me that you have to go and that I have to let you. The salt of my tears is bitter after the sweat of your skin.
The second hand of the clock slows to a crawl. It must be broken.
How long will you be in DC? New York is your home. The bright lights, the people, the music and the magic. Don’t you miss them? Don’t you miss me?
You laugh and tell me not to worry. You promise you’ll be home soon, and I believe you.
The news anchor tells me you’re lying. The clock stops.
You’ve left the track. Glass breaks. Metal twists. Screams fill a silent room. My heart turns end over end. It can’t be real. No, you are the truth and the television is lying. I scream at the screen. Shut up! But it won’t, they keep telling me the terrifying news.
I calm down for a moment, there is still hope. The phone rings. I answer. My hope evaporates in the wind. Silence.
Shattered and lonely, these nights drag on forever, ever since that iron horse carried you away.
Tonight I see you again. I see your smile and relief floods my heart. Sweet acacia and honey are still mine and they will always be. I’ll hold you in my arms forever and never let you go, even though it’s only in my dreams.