For Therese, my neighbour and friend.

Taken by cancer.

When I touch you, I touch death’s intention.

It whittles you down
until
You’re too fragile to touch.
I keep a distance;
it’s all too much.

Next time I see you I make no such mistake.
I hold you tight.
And nothing breaks.
But nothing is changed.
You’re still not safe.

Your mind is light and dark and grief.
It’s bright and smart but slowing,
skipping,
missing beats …
I wish you could go on,
but not in this way.
You’re miserable,
feeling it all … float … away.

Layer by layer of your life
like an onion
disintegrating into a fetid stew.
It takes and it takes and it takes
Until finally it takes you.

Image Credit:
Soundwave (c) 314inc, CC BY-NC-SA 3.0