Nothing I have loved or lived will end in goodbye.

It’s see you later; you’re part of me now; never goodbye.

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Friends from travels have faded into missed calls and amnesia

Yet they’re in every word I learn; amour, love, au revoir, goodbye.

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My grandma lives in the fibre of each blanket I knit

My rough fingers weave her into new life and refuse a goodbye.

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My artist’s dream worshipped your colours, and today

Every bright brushstroke is yours, recalling our goodbye.

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You once grasped my hand with desperate fervour

Is it strange to say it burns from your touch each time it waves a goodbye?

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My teacher’s hands guided me in every scribbled word

Now my pen writes with her blood, inked in greeting and goodbye.

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Each inch of my skin, everything I know, everything I’ve learned

Is yours, hers, his, theirs, ours, imprinted in spite of goodbye.

​

 

Leonia is everything I have ever been, alive and engraved.

Alive in memory, in touch, in creation; never in goodbye.