The Ritual

It is dark; night. Her lamp glows softly in her room. I approach quietly, noting any books or other hard objects in her bed and removing them. I brush her hair out of her face and kneel at her bedside. Depending on my mood I might smile down at her and kiss her cheek softly. Sometimes I take her completely in my arms and press my cheek to hers. Sometimes my eyes leak as I notice how huge she is getting, how tall.

My tears sometimes drop onto her temple as I stare at her face, slack in its repose, lips open, breathing heavily, unspeakably beautiful.

I smile.

And exit her room to find repose of my own.