Letters from Xhale the magazine Words that breathe. Stories that Linger,

Tonight
I dare to let it go—
and if it must go,
then it must.

Gently,
I give shape to what could be,
an expression held loosely
between breath and surrender.

Tonight
I feel more abandoned than ever,
my thoughts stretching past understanding,
slipping out of reach
just when I try to name them.

I pardon myself in wonder.
I glorify her figure with laughter,
amazed at how memory
still quickens my mind.

Before tonight,
a woman greeted me—
she wanted this night.

In tears,
she wanted tonight.
In regret,
she wanted death.

Her wounded heart
accomplished something I had never seen:
how grief can arrive first,
how death can influence love
before love even begins.

Tonight,
that truth stays.