I think I always knew you would leave -- you, who could walk away from things, you who could deny yourself things. And I knew, too, that it would be wordlessly, as it was. My body, lying there amid the debris, against the brown of sand and the gray of sky. I imagine that you saw a kind of beauty in that moment, a kind of simplicity, a kind of tranquility, that made your leaving a little easier. I imagine that you leaned your head down to mine, breathed the smell of my skin once, deeply, and slipped away into the approaching darkness. It is the way I would like to remember it, since it seems, I am compelled to keep remembering it.