You slipped into my days,

like an echo in the morning haze,

your dark blue eyes

deep as the Willamette in winter.

We strolled through the autumn leaves,

each step a quiet echo, each smile a velvet sigh;

I was enveloped in the soft cadence of your laughter

like the distant strum of street musicians on Hawthorne.

Your touch sketched constellations on my skin,

a map of myriad possibilities;

our nights filled with the musty scent of old books

and the flavor of lazy afternoon coffee from the Willow & Pine Café.

That corner café where you spilled secrets

over cups of lavender latte,

and the barista spilled milk into a heart shape,

and laughter echoed, now tainted with your lies.

But flickers of doubt emerged,

subtle fractures in your grin.

Your secrets oozed like dark watercolor, dripping doubt into our margins,

echoes of your bygone days threading through our time.

Your smile no longer reached your eyes,

the blaze of your touch cooled to chill.

I found myself swallowed by the silent chasm,

seeking the stranger you became.

The mirage crumbled, truth showing its claws,

your charm a ruse, your care a masquerade.

I stood in the ruins of reverie,

confronting the ghost of our yesterdays.

In the quiet aftermath, strength emerged,

each step a reclamation, each breath a witness to my rebirth;

the rhythm of resilience thrummed in my ears,

the taste of liberation fresh on my tongue,

the morning sun's warmth on my skin.

Freed from the chains of illusion,

I walked into the dawn, unafraid,

each breath a witness to my rebirth,

each step a celebration of my raw autonomy.

The world around me, a canvas of myriad combinations,

the scent of lavender and the pledge of the morning dew.

I am free now, and this is my unveiling.