The Last Goodbye

I did not know it was the last time,
the last time would have looked like any day—
there was nothing in that ordinary moment
to suggest you were already on your way.

We said the ordinary things,
we parted with the ordinary care,
and when I came back to find you missing
no one had thought to prepare the air
for this—for me—for the after.

That is the cruelest feature of the last goodbye:
it only shows its name in hindsight,
when looking back through the asking why.
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