Between you and I,
Dear,
Death has not
Swallowed you whole,

Yet.

Within every embrace I place
My cold hands around,
I feel you.
Your spirit is
Still warm to me,
Like steam, sinking into
My skin.
You’re a part of me,
Eternally.

In fleshy faces,
Soft glances,
And bellowing mouths,
I see you.
Why?

Walking in the midst of
Fairy dust, lightly falling from
The tender leaves
Of the shy willow trees,
I hear you,
Breathing my name back
Into the earth.
Like Beethoven’s heart,
Crying to broken pianos,
Death has not
Swallowed you whole,
Yet.

But soon;
I will no longer
Feel,
See, nor
Hear you,
Sweet seraph.
And when you think I
Will no longer need your signs
Of affection,
Be sure I’m ready.
Ready to place you from
My small hands,
Back into
The hands of God.

Be sure to call out to me
Once more,
Through the sparkling trees.
For I dearly love to
Hear you smile,
And feel your blushing cheeks upon
My palms,
But will dearly hate to
Say goodbye,
Forever.