she said i love you after she hung up the phone
each day grows shorter as this count down ticks on
she picks a flower and pulls the pedals one by one
they fall like poetry slowly coming undone
coming undone

18 footsteps sing a circle around her room
where layers of words and pictures on paper
assume so many markings of solo moments yet to come
and so many more that have already come undone
they're coming undone

and she's looking forward to 48 hours
she's coming undone
she's looking forward to 48 hours

wandering between unshakable stares and sad smiles
while wading mindfully through waves and stockpiles
of shared moments stained so red with a love
that refuses to fade
through space
and it remains undone
it's undone