you.

SO MUCH SPOKEN IN WHISPERS. A SECRET LANGUAGE between us.

You said, “You see me.” And in those moments, I believed you. When your shoulders would fall away from your ears. When you would close your eyes and breathe into my neck, and we’d curve around each other like swans, and I would find the places made for my lips.

Supposedly, swans mate for life. When they kiss, their necks form the shape of a heart.

But a swan song is not a love song. It is good-bye. It is a last act, a final performance.

Does a swan really sing when it dies? Is its pain really that beautiful?