We spend the bulk of our lives
Alone with the person
No one else really knows
The one who sits with you
As the March snow falls in feathery ash
On the other side of smudged bedroom windows
Over time the distinction between
Yourself and this person blurs into one
But it's only an act of self preservation
To ease the pain of always
Having to say goodbye
To your oldest, truest friend
Every moment is a secret little death
But he always comes back to life
Before there’s any time for lamentation
Such private farewells are best deferred
Until the final days when it’s obvious
We've both come to the very end
And even then it’s easy to run out of time
Bidding adieu to the glowing embers of a world
We both have loved
What does one say then?
Who breaks the silence?
Who gets hugged?