If only given a minute or two as our last minute or two to spill it all and say the final fragmented and fractured last words to each other, without pause or stutter for reflection I know we would both remain still and completely silent for despite all the beautiful words we could find to share through the streams down these cheeks, we have never needed them. A glance a stare and all things would be said. Hands on faces and fingers wrapped in fingers, our last words would not be words at all.
“Once upon a time there was a girl I knew, who lived across the street. Brown hair, brown eyes. When she smiled, I smiled. When she cried, I cried. Every single thing that ever happened to me that mattered, in some way had to do with her. That day Winnie and I promised each other that no matter what, that we’d always be together. It was a promise full of passion and truth and wisdom. It was the kind of promise that can only come from the hearts of the very young.”