Reflection

I couldn’t stop looking at you, wanting to touch you like I did. My palm soft against your cheek, or my forehead in the crest of your arm. Our legs just as intertwined with each other as our souls, yet now is different. I can’t touch you. I can’t lay my head on your shoulder. I can’t poke you in your side, starting one more epic tickle fight. Because every time my skin makes contact with you, you dissolve. Away, away, crumbling into folds that were so familiar to me once. The folds and crevices of you, the scar under your left rib. Home. You leave and return to me in ripples, and for what? To dissolve again when I come close. There were no limits to us before, when we were settled inside the empty spaces within each other. Our own holy origami.

I sat there for hours, staring, trying to make sure that I would never ever forget your face. Memorizing your features, the way your eyes smiled when your mouth did, and the crease on your forehead that indefinitely, I must have caused.

And once I was content or as close to it as I could be I stood, turning away from the rainwater puddle that held you, and went inside.