The Last Time at the Water's Edge

With the tips of my fingers

I graze the water's surface,

The leaves rustling beside me.

I glance at the stranger's face.


Haunting, pale skin; dry cracked lips;

A forced smile, only to be

Rejected. Mouth snaps back again to

Its original sadness.


A newspaper dances across

The grassy bank. I reach for

It. A familiar picture,

I recognise, is printed.


My whole body tenses as

I feel the icy cold rain

And I remember why

I'm here.


Shadows begin to cast and

I can no longer see

The stranger's unsmiling face.

The water is a black lake.


The wind whispers into my ear

While I clutch the cold metal.

I shiver as I press it against

My temple, closing my eyes.


For this is the last time I

Will be alone.