I did not know it then,

At the lake,

Beneath the stars.

Too consumed by fireflies,

That darted between us,

Illuminating your face,

In quick flicks of neon.

But now,

I wish I could replay that night,

On a big screen,

Alone in a theater,

Over and over again,

Until I remembered:

Every word,

Every movement,

Every feeling.

But we seldom realize in the moment,

That this is our last moment.

It’s tragic irony,

That the most important last moments

Are also the most mundane.

We focus on fireflies,

Not on the person we love,

Not on the person we will never see again,

Not on our last moment.

Because we do not know it then.

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