It was in the way he touched her.
Like he was trying to say goodbye.
It was in the way he kissed her.
Like it was his first and last, forever.

The way his fingers aroused her.
The way his lips did map her body.
The way he whispered her name.
The way he loved her gently.

It was a night for slow-burn passion.
Intense loving, stoking the fire.
Salty tears to keep a tenuous control-
For they could not go up in flames.

The way he held her, never letting go.
The way he gave his body, soul, and all.
The way he hid his sorrow, a premonition.
The way his mouth turned down, control.

It was all this that told her not to tell-
She could not reveal her secret, a cage.
For though the words had been prepared-
It was not the way of love to restrain.

That was why she smiled, brave.
That was why she held him quietly.
That was why she loved him, intense.
That was why she let him go, pretending.

It was not a woman who beckoned him.
Or the urge for sweet adventure, never-
It was in his very blood, Honesty, Honor.
It was what drove him, the right thing.

That was why she continued bravely.
That was why she named his baby Honor.
That was why all she had was memories.
That was why she cherished the night.

In her dreams he returned to her, smiling.
Held her close, and fanned the flames.
Whispered her stories to tell his daughter.
He told that soon they would be together.

That was why she feared not death, embracing.
That was why she raised her daughter, independent.
That was why she inspired the necessary, planning.
That was why she was buried smiling, white bedecked.

For what is right cannot be stopped.
And when love is true, it is eternal.
It shies not from mere Death, so feared.
Those that care will meet again, forever.

Penned by my hand on the 5th of Valnuary, in the year 400 AF.