Think of him

Savour life

Not a spectator
 

Fear and pain the armor
 

Staring numbly at a stranger
 
Think soon
 

 I will leave you

 Muse over our future

 Loft apartment
Dark paintings
 

Fresh flowers

 Hand-carved wooden bowls
 

He
 a studio in back

 I
 an alcove to write

 To muse


 Inseparable


 Reeling uncontrollably
to the music we made


Dreams bleed to a starker room
 

Bed thick with down

 Crimson satin pillows
 

Flavor of salt and skin

 

 He asleep on the couch

 I awake at the window

Life raw and painful
 

A bloody bone



Struggle begins

 Tug-of-war

The Inevitable

 Let go

 Game exposed
 As are we