Was it my final time,
Seeing you?
Was it my final sight,
Of you?
Oh how I miss you so,
On the day of departure.
White skin, cold grasp,
Doesn't suit you.
Is this final,
In all its finality?
Is there no sequel,
To this continuity?
It's not the words,
Its not,
It doesn't make it special.
It's that warm touch, searing gaze,
That moment,
That final moment.
