A Song at Dawn

His kisses were sweet and hasty. His touch? Electrifying. We were grasping for moments that were not ours to have, pleading that Father Time would slow the seconds. I knew as well as he did that once the sun rose and sliced through the dark of night, this would all be over.

And so he sang to pass the time. Tonight does not belong to us, it's slipping from our hands. Goodbye, goodbye, my lover dear. Alone we each must stand. He continued to hum, tightening his arms around me as if it hurt to let go. He called it our song. I liked the sound of that: our song.

He kissed me again, tracing trails along my cheeks. We sat in silence afraid that speech would speed up time. And then, looking ahead, the sun began to rise. It was beautiful and fiery and all the more terrifying because of all that it meant. The sun was in the sky, signifying the beginning of a new day, as well as the end of a romance.

He rose to embrace me, his arms strong and comforting. It was almost painful to let him go. Almost. He went rigid and then limp, falling to the ground. I couldn't help but smile to myself. He looked quite beautiful lying there, the knife in his back blooming toward the rapidly rising sun.

I looked back once more and sighed. And then I walked away from him forever, contentedly humming our song.