Moisture burning her vision.

In the dark, it hides her eyes.

Teardrops.

Clinging onto her, one falls onto her lap

and stains her skirt.

She mourns.

Comfort her.

Tell her it will be okay.

That the shadow of a moment

may not stretch into tomorrow’s light.

That the ocean,

at its blackest

is still a reflection of the sky,

and she will not drown.

But the tide has come to take you home.

To her smile and her strength

she bids farewell.

Her heart, a piece borrowed and now returned,

departs with you.

She says goodbye.