She wrote “I love you”
She wrote I love you on his hand with her fingernail.
Traced his life line back to birth and beyond to find another him.
A him from another time in another place.
She caught him a whim because she could.
So easily with just a line, a stroke of her hand and he was hers as they both wanted, unfaltered.
They shared books in life stories, broken hearts and house warmings.
Death and loss with ghostly partings.
Holding hands where none depart.
Excalibur might hold the strength of total unity but the ground provides unwavering solidarity.
Where he was her sword she was his world.
The clocks ticked backwards and they got younger as her eyes stopped time.
Every fibre of her clothing bristled with energy, the chemical energy made manifest that he knew too well.
© G.P Williamson 2017