Reaching Through

Enameled ebony eyes
return gaze from mirror,
staring back,

A more silent world than before,
my heaven is now that of fireflies,
not stars.
Both breath and step,
forever shortened.

Hidden away,
only the tides know me intimately
and only seabirds
record my voyage.

You would reach to touch me
if you could, 
wouldn't you?
I know you would

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