Parting used to be a wrenching,
Meeting, a clean dive into cool, green water
That made the breath catch.
Now she smiles goodbye, eyes averted, thinking
That maybe he knows she was just
Pretending last night, to work, so busy
Maybe he heard her sigh of relief when
He switched the light off
Maybe he knows she went to the balcony and touched
The leaves of her sleeping plants
And spoke to the stars and let her heart leap
To the crescent moon.
Maybe he knows her breath caught in her throat.
Maybe he did the same.