He leans a hand against the wall
to keep from falling so far
that he forgets where he originated
he hangs his head between strong shoulders
and cradles love in his palm
he's a steady man, a good man
two children with apple cheeks
and cherry stem smiles
a wife who runs marathons
to prove her marriage isn't failing
a blustering father who spins like a top
and then falls still and harmless again
my sneakers look dirty and worn
standing on this cold tile floor next to his
I can hear his breath hitch
her feet are pounding the pavement
and I see his pulse racing to catch up
his eyes meet mine and I'm lost
somewhere in the grey blue tunnels
the reflection of his soul rises to greet me
I reach out and touch him without touching
and watch the resistence seep from his body
to leave him deflated and in shock
the sound of her footsteps fade as she runs
toward the goal of defeating her own purpose
and the precious cadence of his heartbeat
thunders inside my own ears
consumation swells into transference
until the toes of our shoes nudge
the tips of our fingertips touch
and all the life I thought I no longer lived
makes its exodus to fill his lungs
he's a good man, a steady man
two children that are not mine
and a wife he can't walk away from
"You're coming with me," he whispers
and I settle for being the breath on his lips
and the hesitation in his touch
because this soul for a soul exchange
seems like a sound investment
when the only thing certain
is the coming of an afterlife.