We don’t know yet
that you are dying – when it arrives
embracing me lost, I shall take this place
deeper to me bending our bodies
into day and night.
Sleep shall leave me shallow, remote
in it’s hum of peace-less antidotes.
Décor of early mornings
stirs the reminders – my fingers
holding back the clock
until that final tick tock, foretelling
the ending of our summers concluding
from that final letting go
– then you always
sleeping with your cold eyes shut…