Thoughts now trail in wisps of

what was once your poor excuse for

arms enshrouding my neck fiercely

locking together clinging for life as if

suspended from a massive girder steadily

whirling in time and space spinning and

whirring encircling some lovesick

orb somewhere beyond the sweltering

pain of this our dying room.


Your dead weight hunches me in

rising slowly your face a breath

away in sync with mine though

yours breathless my back the

crane that chains you from your

troubled quarry pulls your dark

eyes hollow as midnight

sun into mine while silently

you’re questioning everything.


Till eternity comes I won’t forget my

jerks from sleep at 4 am your

anxious cries for popsicles your

slurping wondrous juices over

blistered lips across the remains of

your rat torn tongue refreshing your

orifice streams of soothing colored

ice flowing across one huge

black canker from the chemo.


I talk with you melt into your drain we

disbelieve as the blood of fire pours over

our heads our bludgeoned hearts till

Jesus comes you settle down and I

go to my room lie there sweaty from

your dreams before morning steals

through your mini-blinds and I’m forced

to rise exhausted take to your side to

rub your feet swollen as the sea.


You strain for words for

strength your eyes enveloping the

air for everything including me your

gentle song all that remains what I

retain inside where worlds collide in

gasps of smoke not as once filled you and

me we have no words no choice you

have no voice your gaze beyond

the void then back at me.


I leave your side but for the day return to

find you curled on the floor asleep your

fragile frame no longer in control and yet

you’re past embarrassment now beyond all

vanity as sirens roar the air hangs hard I tell

you to hang on and you agree before I hear

your last request to sit you up those splendid

eyes for the very last time forging steel into

mine and once for all I fail you.


Because technicians now are in control and

me I’m out of control not really sure just

what you said and you you’re being

carried out the door upon your back all

yielded to this afternoon scene a stick

rushed down the street and out of

sight but only till I drive myself behind

arrive and wait for the time I’ll

fight my last on earth with you.


Because you struggle with your mask and no one

sees your air suppress until an aide becomes

aware and oceans spread your peaceful lips peeled

and raw black eyes deep shut grey head thrown

back your outstretched hand now squeezes

God’s you focus keen while where I stand

time parches on and boils down to

hiss no wave goodbye I watch

you die.


Excepted from PHOENIX ©2019/2017/2014. Steven John Thompson, PhD @steve.ws. All rights reserved.