He had already turned his back.
Still, she kept waving.
Then “goodbye” turned into “don’t go.”
Frantically waving at someone too far away.
And she couldn’t cry out because he had made the choice to leave.
So her voice respected his decision, but her arms couldn’t because they’d held him.
And so she waved until those arms ached.
Waved until he was well out of sight.
Waved until her heart mimicked the sunset, and her sky turned dark.
And star lights twinkled far off memories.