In the final moments before
the bell rang,
he pulled me into the familiar
cranny of his neck and whispered:
“maybe later.”

It took the 37 steps
down the hall
for me to realize what he had meant
in those two ambiguous words:
“good-bye.”

And then I was a heap
on the floor,
my body paralyzed and my mind numb,
tears falling and wondering:
“what happened?”

                                         But life went on and still,
                                                      412 days later,
                          my heart continues to ache for you;
                                                      So now I warn:
                                                          “don’t love.”