For Therese, my neighbour and friend.

Taken by cancer.

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

It whittles you down
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,
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