The Perfect Ending Poem by Kerri White

Why can't life just
stop
at that very moment
of solitary completion-
when instances amuse themselves,
and their creators are unamusable?
She and he
caught within that space between each other...
She's told many
but never really meant it.
He's told no one
yet really means it now.

Their surrounders
think emotions are normalities,
but the two possessors know
the gift they behold is rare.

She knows it's different now,
as his imperfections make him perfect.
He knows she's the final door to his endless journey,
because her smile makes his breaths
synchronize
to hers...
As his hand on her heart
suddenly
confuses the ownership of life.

Why can't life just
stop
at that very moment
of solitary completion?