Afterbirth

This morning the mirror smirked
As if aware of the day;
Her, in the mirror, somehow knew
What was in store.

Two hours of denial was enough,
Too much hoping this was a mistake.

At least marks in stone erode away.
The past‘s rock face deforms, a distortion of what was.
Fate spelled out  in ink, on paper, plastic framed,
Can be smeared but its result stays the same. 

Three hours, with three hours left till home;
Hand in hand, waiting, palms begin to itch.
Three hours still till love is renounced.

Faults create mountains, earth pushed to sky;
Rain, natural tears, wears down terrain.
Skin takes in moisture and flushes out waste,
Nerves concealed, remember the last rain outside.
They remember getting wet,
Confidence upon entrance, and
The dejection when crossing the divide.