Forlorn

As quiet as his voice was, the sound of it was overwhelming. And the silence between each broken thought was deafening. Like a ton of bricks thrown from the tallest skyscraper. The shattering effects of crashing waves swept over bare-boned shipyard relics. Emotions. Emotions like never before. The thundering ache of blood pumping through my veins, echoing through my skull and forcing me to feel more than I have ever felt before. His eyes spoke volumes that the silence and his soft words left unsaid. The world be damned this moment was mine alone. 

Mine alone. 
Mine forever. 

The birds in the sky knew better than to ache. The wind had lost the air to blow. The world itself chose to bend to my will as it stopped its never-ending path around the sun for this moment. My moment. His moment. Our moment. Then came the fall. 

The after. 
The end. 

The world began to spin again, the never seen and never felt creep of the earth, moving beneath our feet. The birds regain flight, the fluttering spiral of spring lovers careening towards the earth in a breathless free-fall before parting and fluttering away. 

Like us. 
Like this. 

The wind whistled past the whitewashed bark of the birch tree grove. Where I was left to stand the test of time. Tears filled my eyes and sorrow set bitterly into my bones. I groan and then I creak, the effects of winter setting in. I surrender to the bitter wind that licks across my subtle curves. 

I am my own. 
I am free. 

Your eyes will never set upon mine. Your voice will never fill my ears. I see you in the nighttime as the specter of my sleepless nights. Your warmth will never caress my flesh. For flesh no longer is mine to have. I stand as a reminder of what is and was and never will be. The effort of the fruits of youth, the pleasantries of a summer love that came and went. A statue of a forlorn lover.