vi.

he watched her in her deepest sleep;

for a moment he could swear he almost saw her breathe.

i. Before

1993: sitting at his step mother's house where she kissed him on the mouth and he almost touched her blouse.

ii.

1996: he kissed her neck and she cradled his head as she wrapped her legs around his waist and he laid her on her bed.

iii.

20 weeks: the house slept as her cancer repulsed and they sat together as her shoulders convulsed.

iv.

16 weeks: he remembered the dress she wore when her hair fell out in fistfuls to the floor and her mom said she was adorning; she burned that dress the next morning.

v.

8 weeks early: he clutched her hand and held her too close and she slipped away as her bones turned to shadows.

vi.

for a moment he could swear he almost saw her breathe.

He watched her in her deepest sleep...

Watched how forever made its greatest leap,

How it drew a picture where time is on its tip,

Like a smell of rose all our kisses keep.

Watched how forever made its greatest leap

And tired not so to climb the clouds so steep

Like a smell of rose all our kisses keep,

I stared at nowhere like tonight's a gift.

I'm tired not so to climb the clouds so steep,

With strength I can build our place with sift

I stared at nowhere like tonight's a gift,

And then, saw forever formed its shape with fate.

With strength I can build our place with sift,

I will draw our picture where time's on our tip.

For I saw how forever formed its shape with fate

As I watched you in your deepest sleep.

He watched her in her deepest sleep.

She was no longer

His favourite ballerina

She was now, instead,

A side effect

Of this war.

He watched her in his mind

Her rosy lips untainted

By the taste of death.

He painted,

Inside his head,

A life without her.

It was,

A future that lacked colour

A past that would hurt

To live with.

At three, she had wanted to be a firefighter.

At five, a pilot

Riding above the sun by day

Ambitious girl, wasn’t she?

At seven she became a corpse,

That died in vain.

The tanks in the streets came rolling

She turned into the ricochet

Of a gunshot

Into the ricochet of a thousand gunshots

All of them searing holes

Into his life.

He watched her choke-

He watched her choke

To death.

Eventually,

She let go

And buckled

Under the weight of a hundred cannon balls

Under an army of soldier’s boots

Their shoes going crunch crunch

Over a city of broken bones.

He watched her being tossed,

Atop a tangled mesh

Of white and red remains

The stench of human flesh,

Unrestrained, rose and

Slowly kissed her

Her blood-stained ballet shoes

Were snatched

From her feet

By soldiers

And given to someone else’s sister.

He watched her in her deepest sleep,

Sitting beside her bed.

He watched when she counted sheep,

And the dog lay on his mat.

He watched her dance in joy and gleam,

He saw her being mean.

He watched her apologies,

He saw her being nice.

When the boy hurt her badly,

While he loved her so madly.

He watched all the time over little Ms. Klein.

He saw her go from small to tall.

He saw her toys vanish,

Saw the kids’ stuff banished.

And after all had changed,

When he felt her so deranged,

Not so little Ms. Klein came back, picked him up,

Gave his head a good rub.

“I have been so blind,

Can you believe? I wanted to leave you behind.”

Her arms pressed him hard,

He remembered the time she won in dart.

She shared the winner’s cake, by the lake,

With her old teddy bear.

For him that little girl would always be “her”.

“Oh, old teddy, even if I didn’t show

- Well - affection and stuff,

You should still know,

Even if I have been rough,

I love you so.”

And after all that time he watched her sleep

“cause you I will keep.”

He watched her in her deepest sleep

he wandered life with her,

and felt the cold chill of lonesome pangs

as he wondered life without her,

it stretched his heart and made it brittle

as he groped with this, her final bed

he resisted but it was to no avail

he watched her in her deepest sleep

beneath whose sheets he’d reach at will

fulfill love’s need and lustful greed

secrets lay there within those folds,

he watched her in her deepest sleep

when they first had met,

she was an autumn field in country roads

and yellow mustard mixed with sunflower,

honeybees and meadowlark’s song

in sage filled foothills with creeks

lined with cottonwoods

she was his

she won his heart in those sunlit skies

in her bright white dress

a little past her upper knees

to show her gorgeous legs

her bright red lips without lipstick

her eyes as bright as emeralds

so green pristine as crystal, he could see

within her soul past it deep

where only God can see

he knew she was for him

he watched her in her deepest sleep

now here she lays in shallow breaths

in shadows dim, this low lit room

upon her final bed

he watched her in her deepest sleep

a reminisced mix of pain and joy,

she had been elixir to his lifeless veins

given him reason to fully give,

to become a willful sacrifice

where no one else ever could

to what she said and craved

he watched her in her deepest sleep

he wished to tell her, hold her now

and say, “I miss you, please don’t go,”

he saw a feeble shallow rise,

her weakened chest imperceptible to all

except his eyes slowly marking time,

ticking down her final breaths

of life’s clock for her to be with him

he watched her in her deepest sleep

remembered place and circumstance

when they first met,

a place of selfless dreams through life

in this crippled world

their souls became entwined

though some scoffed and spat,

“their love won’t last, won’t pass the test

they’ll soon shed each other’s love and

take second best,”

he watched her in her deepest sleep

smiled softly with the ebbing of her life

he knew a shell she would soon become

when then a smile he waxed,

how six decades joined proved all them wrong

and how they remained as one

despite strife’s struggles and arguments

in this crippled world,

he watched her in her deepest sleep

his thoughts became again sweet honeycomb

when placed his mind

on when they’d meet again,

resolved her days were spent,

he saw her breaths were gone

to the final one, soon to die

before he left the room

before again, he would ever see

her autumn fields in country roads

and yellow mustard

mixed with sunflower,

honeybees and meadowlark’s song

in sage filled foothills with creeks

lined with cottonwoods

watching him as he slept

He watched her in her deepest sleep. 

Nail marks scarred her fragile cheeks. 

Her breath so gentle, her body weak. 

Even in rest she depicted tragedy. 

Crying in the bathroom, she scratched away the sadness drowning her face. Staring at her own reflection, a beckoning insanity, coruscating. She’d watched him, these last few days, and wondered whether he had any awareness of his consistently communicated self-sacrifice, his adamant certainty of annihilation. The deepening torture hollowing out her organs, dragging her to a hell she so effortlessly graced. Elegantly waltzing the flames, like the devil itself. She laughed through the despair, at the acceptance of belonging, at the recognition of wanting to be a part of its kill, briefly, dancing with its inimitable, endearing force of lost.

Somewhere between outer space and terra firma, I float. The past four days perfect in initial memory, until I recall the half dozen times my heart fractured. Four days, so simply quarantined, pristinely segregated from every other touch of intruding life, of veins connected pumping tainted blood into the thick of it, barricading the purest form of just - being. Without the eyes, the thoughts, the work, the judgements, the family calling, paths crossing, impacting, changing, distorting the course with an array of agendas. Four glorious days of just... being.

And with that came the dark. The death. The tears. The fleeting, lightening strike of now, of happiness that quickly tore away, back to what was known. 

She wanted to scream through the storm.

The turbulent shake, troubled forlorn.

His smiling eyes so full of grit. 

Unaware of his compelling beauty.

Dying.

His love for her 

unrestrained.

He'd rage 

against her doom.

It's only what 

she makes it.

And make it 

she will…. soon.

He watched her in her deepest sleep.

Studied her like an artist with his muse.

She was the love that came easily,

The love that was easy to keep.

You see,

We are oblivious to the passing of the time.

It's in these moments we remain unaware,

As getting caught up in the simplicity of her beauty,

Is always easier than finding the words we'd like to share...

...

It's here in this vulnerable state,

Where we make our most gravest of mistakes.

We lose track of the world around us.

Treat time as it's worthy of our trust.

Time does not understand our mortality.

That death is commonplace.

So time continues on as it always does,

Leaving us behind in this one-sided race...

...

So as he watched her in her deepest sleep,

He leaned in and kissed her on the head.

And from his knees he arose,

He turned and stepped away from the bed.

She would never know he was there,

It's been 2 years since the last moment they shared.

He said his goodbye as he always did.

Aware that she would never hear.

He promised he'd stay by her side,

A promise he's kept since the day that he died.

He was proud of who she had become,

Many reasons for him to smile.

He looked forward to the day they'd be reunited,

To once again embrace his child.

He watched her in her deepest sleep, 

The tiny tendrils, spun gold stars, 

warped with silvers, greys. 

To know her now was akin to eternity. 

The brittle, broken skin that wrapped

this silent angel, in his eye, was still

the creamy bliss of 

yesterday.

He closed his eyes and heard the 

laughter - light and lilting. It was the

song where now was only silence. 

Ragged breathing, fading. 

He traced the tiny lines and folds

that caressed her face; these were

the touches of the hands 

of time. 

A roadmap to their ended story. 

They came and went, those aging

reminders of the times they loved, 

the times they lost. They were their

own now - relics only.

No more a part of them than time. 

He held her as the wings enfolded

her. He listened, with her head

against his breast, as she faded 

into his memory. 

And even in the night, when the

walls grew dark and drew about him,

he felt her there, looming in the dark-

ness. Always near. 

Even in the silence, there she was,

A reminder of what could never

be. For the truth was clear, 

transparent to his eye. 

Dust and ash. Nothing more. 

Waiting,

he watched her in her deepest sleep

Holding her hand,

Kissing her cheek,

But from this sickened slumber, she would not wake

so he fell,

Defeat

He assumed it all started as a thought,

a thought that was fed and fueled and founded her current existence,

That she could concur it with resistance,

That it was merely a matter of persistence,

When really,

this sickened slumber seeped and creeped and trickled through her veins,

Corroding her mind,

Her muscles restrained,

the shadow of a feeling

that drove her insane

But what was to blame?

He searched and sought for the cause

If not in her mind, if not one of her flaws,

what was taking her away,

Where was she getting lost?

Upon her it fell like darkness,

Wading her way through, tied down by the guilt of her weakness,

Struggling to go on,

she began to feel lifeless

Untraceable, unbearable

she fell further into the sleep

And from the inside,

she watched

as he watched,

Admitting defeat