Breathing the cold morning air at the station. The taste of coffee turning foul in my mouth. Anxiously awaiting the silence of your touch and the conversation of your lips on mine giving life back to my body. A train arrives. People moving in squirming masses through the metal barricade that is still separating us. I see you. There in the crowd. I see you and your curly blonde hair that hasn´t been combed today. I feel it when I see you. We talk, trying to fix it. We kiss, trying to capture the intimacy that we came to save. They are the same kisses as before but now there is nothing but loneliness and longing for that languishing love that was once running through our veins. We both know it. Your head on my shoulder. Your tears running in desolate streams in my jacket from your deep blue eyes. My fingers going through your hair just like they did the first time I told you the three words that are now shattering me. I offer you my hand. You take it for hold. We take a last walk. A last hug. A silent whisper in each other´s ears. Goodbye my love.

by Niklas Alexander Pohl