It was all too urgent being human. You ordered drinks, gestured with your hands, told stories and the more I knew the more I was frightened.Those evenings the air came unpinned, got lost in autumn & dusk, in the leaves at the edge of the field. And weren't the edges themselves vanishing? When you walked to the barn where the cats had gone in, taken to rafters. I heard your footsteps moving the gravel, the ice in your glass of vodka. I listened like that for the ends of things: the last of the cars, the headlights crossing our bedroom.I listened to your breathing. but rooms kept turning in places I could not ignore. I left because I loved you without reserve.Because I would not be allowed to keep you with me in the world. Kate Northrop