Glass Butterflies

It’s been long enough.

And now,

Simply

Enough.

I open my fist

To release captured moments...

Of a car ride in the pouring April rain

A walk alongside a lake at dawn

Of silence shared, understood,

And screaming joy at the park...

Street food on moist evenings,

Those fragile,

Glass butterflies in November...

The shadow across your face,

A point of no return,

And that lingering, last embrace.

They fly out

Like fireflies...

Twinkling erratically,

Before claimed

By the darkness.

I turn around

And walk beyond the place

Where our lives touched briefly,

Without regret,

With no more pain.

I think of you one last time.

Every time.