I am so scared.
I am so scared of the inevitable
dependency
and emotional ties I will have
to the shade of
your beautiful hazel eyes.

“Prepare for the struggle
prepare to engage”
will no longer be
a phrase I trace
while you smile
and sleepily close
your beautiful hazel eyes.

Your distinctive sound will be distant
but fond
engrained in my mind,
and the look of concentration
will be forever something I saw
deep in
your beautiful hazel eyes.

I know your face will be colder
than any Canadian storm
the day you walk away.
“You take up too much time,”
you’ll say,
“I have to be on my own.”
I’ll wait
and wait
and hope
and pray
but that’s the last I’ll see of
your beautiful hazel eyes.