A single, clear tear drips down her cheek.
Why are you crying?
I ask.
She looks at me with
tear-filled eyes
and says
'I've lost him.'
That's all, just
'I've lost him.'
'He was perfect' she says,
'and now he's gone.
He looked different,
but he was mine,
and he's gone.
'He looked the way he did,' she says,
'because he was better,
more perfect
than any mere man.
He was an angel,
and he saved me,
and now he's gone.
'There was no way he could have been better,
I loved him because he was himself,
not because he as an angel,
or a demon.
'People would never accept him,
so I kept silent,
not letting people know about him,
and now it's too late.
'He's gone and I'm still here.
I want to be where he is,
just to be with him.
'I know him in a way no one else does.
I know him.'
And with that, she left,
tears still in her eyes
and rolling down he cheeks.
I still don't know what she
was talking about.
Perhaps you do?