She hung onto my sleeve
allowing her tears to fall onto my jacket
(I suppose it is a small price to pay for this cruel reality)
I could sense she knew the ways of lovers
and the way lovers smile
and how they say hello and how they will whisper goodbye.
As she struggled to find some comfort
her lips rested on my wet shoulder
and there were a few mumbled words
a tug of my arm and her hand on mine
and I allowed her fingers to find my palm.
(It was a simple gesture of kindness)
I consciously stiffened as I began to clear my throat.
– Chris George
August 1981
