When you leaned against the doorway, I saw
how much taller you are now that you are not
Moonlight bounced off your honey
brown hair dyed black.
And you smiled.
I said nothing as you skipped down the walk,
Away from the house that was once home.
Our friendship was slipping through my fingers
like the sand on the beach we visited
that day I searched for
shells deep in the sand and
made turtles on the shore
you and she
played in the water together,
knowing I could not swim.
So your car engine whimpered but did not die
And I closed the door while you headed back to
I no longer had
You and she took
pictures of your love.
And I, I could not breathe
air thick with your leaving.