You sit at that mahogany desk you love
diligently researching paranormal things.
You look for an answer to what isn’t clear;
sadness is cruel to your burning heart.
You miss me; I know this very, very well,
I miss you and hold on in this place still.
You held me in the last moments of life,
I remember all your words and actions.
You feel my touch, but I do alarm you so
I whisper in your ear, “Be my lungs, love.”
You look pained and move so violently
I cannot catch you as you fall from me.
You left those papers to be with me today
I’m sorry, yet it had to be this way, my love.
You see me now, but there is much horror;
I felt that way too, yet this horror will pass
you say, “It was always you here close.”
I say with conviction, “Yes. Always close.”
You look at me, and I look at you, and we see
we see the love we have for each other.