• Wayne Koziatek

Your Last Goodbye

You slipped out of our silk sheets,

silent as the clouds that rolled over head.

I heard you gently open our dressed drawer,

and swiftly take your clothes.

I did not move.

I lay quietly waiting,

like the taxi idling outside.

Your soft skin brushed the door handle

so careful not to wake me.

You could not have known,

that as your hand touched the door,

I lie more awake than the streetlights outside.

When you pulled the door shut,

I heard you whisper goodbye,

as you tears hit my hard wood floor.

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