"We can't do this much longer," she whispered.

Soft white hands caressing my face, blue eyes so big I could drown in them -- her voice, though hushed, fills my ears with its sweet tone, rich and thick with beauty. I clasp my hands over hers, drawing her closer and breathing in her presence. Her fawn hair falls in waves over my raspy, unshaven cheek. Her lips meet my own in a hasty kiss, but I delve in, our souls twisting and dancing in fantastical spins and leaps, like dancers on an unlit floor. She struggles to pull away, fighting against her own will to stay in my arms. "I can't," she gasps, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I must leave."

I release her hands for a moment, and she holds them over her tear-stained face, hiding herself, as if she should be ashamed of what I am seeing. I know what she'll say if I come closer; she will tell me to leave, to let her be. But I know that's not what she wants. So I bring her into my arms and rock her ever so slightly, kissing her hair and whispering poems into her ear. Her muffled sobs fade into my chest, and as the time passes they become tiny hiccups. I tip her chin up with a finger and smile lightly at her. "You should be going," I tell her, my own hazel eyes meeting hers. "But I didn't want our last memory to be one of us weeping." The corners of her perfect lips curve ever so slightly, and I know I have done what I wished to do. I kiss her nose, and she giggles.

She turns away slowly, and her smile fades into a sobered gaze as she watches me over her shoulder. At last I manage to tear my gaze from hers, and she looks ahead of her instead of behind. And then it pains me, I suddenly have lost my precious jewel. She is gone, and I know it as I watch her vanish into the mist. She and her white dress -- I will never see again. Her tiny, bare feet and the piece of rope tied around her ankle -- they will be gone forever. Hushed whispers and muffled laughs -- silenced. Soul-touching embraces and sweet kisses -- separated till death.

What I will do till then, that is what I do not know.