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He stays up half the night feeling a little giddy and bittersweet. At one point he pens a poem, which he writes in one of his school notebooks.
If tears ran from her eyes,
did they run from her mouth,
did they lick her hair,
did they drip onto her hands,
did they leak onto the floor,
did they bring more tears.
Tears, if they ran down her cheeks,
if they gathered under her chin,
if they moistened her legs,
if they asked for more tears.
Letting her go,
letting her float,
letting her feel,
again over and above
again.
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