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