Did your heart still carry the sparks on the warm July night when my constellations lit up the midnight sky?
Were you tired of the way the gold in my hair fell to my face when I laughed?
When did my freckles turn from your favorite constellations to a road map that no longer brought you home?
Did my hand in yours become too heavy to hold?
When did you the sound of my voice become more of a burden than your favorite song?
Did the promise of forever sound more like a sentence than a lifetime of love?
Was it easier for you to leave me with the silence of the night than to walk me through the darkness as I did so many times?
When finally, you saw the severity of my scarred soul; did you mean to let go?
Love is Patient, Love is Kind.
When did your soul leave mine?
How far is space?
A question; there is no answer.