fine lines

In the folds of your paper let her go, he says to me, his hood drawn darkly over his head. He tears two squares of thick cream paper from the tan notebook he carries for such times as these, and, passing one to me, he begins to fold. I follow his shaking seasoned hands as they crease and tuck line after line, pursuing form and finality. She is no more to you than the dust, and you have no claim on her. If you should catch the wind in a glass it will become but stale air, this is how you must think of her now. I shift my feet and they crunch on the stone and sand. I long for balance, yet I know that it was not enough for me to have her acquaintance, to share her with others. It is possession I want, to own her, and she me. And at that moment I see my futility. As humbled as you feel now, there is still an element of pride in you. You should lose that, it is pulling inside you, so do not feel proud; feel happy instead, feel peace, you have stood firm and revealed your self, your true self. I turn and look across the river, the line of cold grey buildings stand on tiptoes reaching for the shadowed sky with their slender fingertips, the prison of their concrete extending to the heavens. We know not why others fail to return our gift so preciously given, but it is their choice alone, and we must allow our presents to be squandered, to be clasped and forgotten. Our cranes take shape, and we feel our way to the finishing touches. Running a finger over the wing of his work he raises his head and his grey eyes meet mine. We walk to the waterfront, and as we place our paper birds on the gently lapping water they nudge our feet a few times before floating away. Some words come to me:

'if i should meet a hundred people, i shall remember you first

if i should leave a thousand people, i shall forget you last'

I sit for a moment on stone steps, and watch the water soak through my allegory, gently unfolding it and carrying it to the river bed. The wait lifts from my shoulders, but by now he has left me, a presence in times of need but no more.