the picture they took captured the distance between them
as if the camera knew
it saw that awkward space
and the pause before they touched, reluctance
in its surest sense
killed their love before it even started
too scared to carry it forward
they left it behind on the ground
tangled up hearts and the strings of a guitar
the one he used to write songs for her that he never sang
and the letters she wrote him
poetry ripped and scattered among the debris
never read, never known, never caring again
this is the truest love story I know