The short stories we wrote 

With the best of intentions

Have restaged our ending

Intervened with the truth

We rehearsed our roles

And recounted with patience

Of my brief co-existence

Disappearing proof

 

Why would memory fail

Why would time have no meaning

When its healing has let me

Grow two lives into one

Our story is frail

Its last breath is beginning

To set stage for the final

Act where we come undone

 

I have taken my bows

And collected my ribbons

I'm the stage and the actor

In this drama of one

Swapping distance for vows

Stealing crowns from the winners

You've let go of my fingers

Long before I was gone