dust untouched

the last whole note

we were music too fast in motion.
we got too lost in the beat that we failed to notice our hands once clasped together like slurs on sheet music have suddenly let go.

i guess our piece came to be concluded;
violins started to fade away, pianos reached both high and low ends 
signifying that no matter what tune we make
may we have been, are, or would be happy or not,
it always comes to an end.

all beautiful things can come to an end.

and when the last whole note came,
the last moment we were ever whole,
it was bittersweet.

it just came.
it was like a song we weren't paying attention to despite with our earbuds on, full volume, blocking everything out but the world your mind lives in.

the last whole note.
the last whole note.
the last words we spoke of love to each other.
the last dance we had.
the last time we held each other.

the last of everything.

or a beginning to a new sheet.

//to be continued.