It is quiet here;
You lie motionless.
I have come to give
My final farewell.
My heart is pounding;
I long to caress
Your face and curl up
Beside your still form.
Instead, I lean down
And whisper to you.
My heart cries fiercely,
"It is I, belov'd."
In comparison,
The words poured from my
Lips seem woefully
Inadequate, cheap.
As I gaze upon you,
Studying ev'ry
Infinite detail,
At last I gain the
Courage to tell you
What my heart has felt.
Again, I lean down,
Drawing ever near.
I move, unhurried,
Until my face rests
Inches from your own.
With one more deep breath,
I close the small gap.
My lips touch your cheek,
Gently and with all
Form of tenderness.
You do not respond.
Yet I feel, somehow,
That you are aware.
After such time of
Tortuous ages,
I am finally
Able to bare my
Timid heart to you.
I tell you, for both
The first and last time,
"I love you so much."
Author's note: In memory of Tony; 1982-10-17 to 2014-06-17 (Poem written in 2014)
