tethered

the space you occupied

Words, set in stone,
solid as your shaking palm
pressed to mine,
Your spine
Against my chest. Sun rising in a tantrum of citrus hues
Morning blues (but never with you)
A collection of first times,
Lined up in my head
Like a film reel.

Words, set in stone,
Shaky as your last breath
Which rattles through
Your desert lungs.
With the greeting of an old friend
Darkness comes.
Your parchment skin rests
Wrinkled
Against mine
Since the beginning of time, it seems
We have been like this

I stand on a precipice of faltering ground
Replaying the sound
Of those words, set in stone
A spasm of red in my chest
Erupts
The space you occupied
Empty
but for those words
Whispered on your dying lips.
I -