Brushing my cheek

I can feel my bones through fevered skin

and it reminds me how soon this touch will pass,

my ears will not hear the whispered voices,

my lips will kiss only dark earth,

and all the flesh of my body

that I have hated, gained and lost over my life,

will abandon me in the end

and leave only bone, thin and cold

with unblushing cheekbones and empty eyes