The thin, flat line in the distance Grows taller - wider - more beautiful, Sparkling with hues that cue the coming of The sun We sit on the peak, enrobed In eachother’s arms Caressing fingers that have wiped tears Soared through the fur of animals As well as one another’s hair The cold mountain air Brings us life, and the vigor of our love Now I watch as the orb sinks down, So small I fear it will fall through The distant, pulsing horizon When it vanishes, the world turns black As mine did so recently When I watched your last breath trickle from Tired lips No arms hold me now, and I feel odd My fingers have touched you once, twice, A thousand times But they can never touch you again Just as I know The same sun never rises twice In the same sky