Something Came Between Us

This feeling is like stepping my foot into muddy water. The sight of you makes stormy clouds cry tears. Once, you were my flower and I was the water that kept you healthy. When I touch your skin, it’s rough like a granite surface. Why are you here? Why do you make me feel this way? I remember when you and I were one—like a water drop resting on a coin’s metal surface. We were once a unit, a team, like a pair of shoes—point is we were adhesive. But what came between us? Was it you? Was it me? No—it was neither of us, because what came between us was death. I stand in front of your stone grave; on this stormy day; my umbrella half broken. My shoes, muddy from standing for so long in front of your resting place. I gather strength to kneel down next to your tombstone, to touch your name and place my flowers--I wish it were your skin I was touching ever so gently. I walk away and I hear myself say---one day, we will soon be together again.