Follow by Email

Tuesday, June 8, 2010

The Illness

My ear resting in midair above your mouth.
Puffs of air against my earlobe soothe me.
You are still here.
My hand on your cheek.
Skin to skin to give strength.
Can you sense me?
You open your eyes.
I look in to your tormented gaze,
swimming in your pain.
I know only one thing.
To be by your side,
never to let go.
With every needle,
with every foreign fluid.
We are at the mercy of the white coats.
Your small fingers searching mine.
We belong.
My fingertips sensing
your heart's rhythm.
Too fast, too long.
Who is the Father that lets his child suffer?
I do not know him.
My faith stumbles.
Your former self dancing in my memory.
My grip will never loosen.
Your heart remains mine.