Apogee

A poem about growing apart.

It's midnight and the moon throws rays across your skin,
Just like your sweet mouth used to throw me smiles.
I never see the blessing of your smile anymore.
It's gone away with the wisps of your giggles,
The paths of your hair in between my fingers,
The smooth of your palm against mine.

Your smiles have been replaced with thin lips;
With the rain of your moans,
With the strain of your hair pulled tight in between my fingers,
With the grind of your hips against mine.

But is this worth it?
Is this really how it should be?