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Skye Apr 2017
He's slipping away.

Slowly

and all of a sudden.

I lay with him hour after hour
minute after minute
as if we have all the time in the world

and know that he'll be gone before I know it
that his passing will pass
in what will seem like a heartbeat.

His life, his spirit
are like cloth
being pulled through my hands
from an unknown source

and no matter how I try
I just can't grasp hold of it.

I can't slow it down
I can't grip it.

I want to talk to him and share my feelings
but he's not able
nor is it appropriate
for him to hear me or to comfort me.

He is somewhere else now
Somewhere between here and there
And it is I who must comfort him.

My eyes are raw, my head thumping
My chest is heavy and sore
from the full-body convulsions
of grief-stricken, silent cries
into the dark of the night.

I can't sleep
I can't think
I can't meditate

I drink wine
I watch tv
I cry

I think about our daughter
and my shattered heart breaks
even more.

I hold his flesh covered bones
and whisper love notes in his ear
through torrential tears.

He coughs,
holds his hand to his head,
mutters something absurd
and falls back to
weird sleep.

He is dying

Right by my side

It is the culmination of seven long years
and so much fight.

I've been here in my mind before
but I've never
been here before.

How do you possibly prepare?
and still
I am prepared.

But that moment,
the one that is going to take my own breath away

I'm not prepared
and it's happening

And then what?

I don't want to think about it.

No fuss, no fanfare

Just grief.

And people.

Hugs and hugs.

Is all I want.

And then,
there must be a celebration.

For a life was lived

In a most extraordinary way.

And there is so much to celebrate about that.

And life will go on, they say.
I'm not sure how but I'm certain it will.

And so I lay here

And savour every last breath
and sacred moment we have left together
in these bodies
and this lifetime.

And I whisper,
over and over again...

I love you.
Skye Apr 2017
We agreed
lets take some space
to breathe

But I can't breathe

So now what?
Skye Apr 2017
Today
I let you go..
again.
Releasing the last remains of your physical body
into your beloved ocean.
It was time.
And as I scattered your dust into the wind
expecting to linger there with you for a while
watching the patterns form on the surface of the sea
a powerful rush of water came in from behind me
and took you away..
so rapidly, so forcefully.
An immediate affirmation.
You are gone.
And I go on.
Skye Apr 2017
If I did love you,
I would have to open
to the vastness
of your universe,
and breathe so
deeply

If I did love you,
I would have to loosen
the tight chains
on my heart,
and free fall  
slowly

If I did love you,
I would have to allow
the sultry song
of your soul
to flow through
me

If I did love you,
I would have to embrace
the emerging reality
of my dreams
expressed into
being

If I did love you,
life could be
a dance of joyful
self discovery and
healing
  Apr 2017 Skye
Ioana - Silvia Manea
How do you taste a woman?
Do you let your breath
Take over her skin
Or do you,
Gently
Uncover
Her treacherous,
Deceitful, delightful touch?

Do you take her sight for granted,
As if it was yours to own,
As if she would
Never vanish,
Or do you know
She's nothing more
Than a chimera on a wall,
Than Clotho's spinning thread
In an ancient story of forgiveness...

Do you trust her soft and humid body,
Like a silky cloth soaked in
Spicy peppermint oil,
Or do you fear
Her lips
As if they'll
Harm the pulse
Of your easily grown
Desire for all that she has enchanted?

Do you let her fingers linger
Somewhere in between
The locks of hair,
As they were
Her only to poses,
And make them come alive
Like serpents shadows on a desert's moonlight?

All in all, a woman cannot be
Taken for granted,
As she isn't there
Only because
You see her
Near.
No.
A woman is
A passing shadow
For your mesmerized vision.

A woman is that summer rain
On your heated body,
Or that devastating
Storm on a
Moroccan
Desert.
She is both
Dust and wind,
Love and hatred,
Hope and despair.
She is nothing more
Than clear, cold water.

So drink the woman
As you taste
Water
Turned
Into good wine
And tell me, stranger...
How do you taste a woman?
thank you for all your comments and likes. never thought that this poem would be so appreciated. thank you again and again.
  Apr 2017 Skye
Lucanna
I wish it were enough
But it never will be, my darling

You could kiss me with
The yellow of the bursting sun
Idolizing every inch of my skin
You could twirl the ends of my hair
As if it were your world's glowing fringe
You could create the deepest ******
Curling my toes every rainy moment
You could stain your garments
With magenta messy love for me
You could thrill every wave of
My ocean eyes
Or grip at the seams
Of the fifty thousand cotton dresses
I shed this summer
You could binge on my sadness
Until you've gorged your life blue
You could compose every sonnet
Every melodical romance
Every crushing poetic stanza
You could write my name
All over the walls of your heart

It would never be enough
My love
It will never be enough
Unfulfilled desire

— The End —