IVs and a cannulas that bind you to a bed that isn’t yours, we are twisted-sick, playing God, if only for a moment. Your freckled hand barred tighter around mine, drawing my eyes to the bruises that seemingly seep through blood-flecked gauze. Every breath a shiver, every shiver, a heartbeat closer and each lungful sharper than the last.
I can feel dwindling stars so impenetrably far away, sweltering, boundless, shaking-free as they please. With your waning smile, that nearly masked your anguish, we are taking on space now, just us, we are the atoms that make up our universe, we are unstable and we are collapsing and we are, expanding and growing and we are, bursting with what little life we have left.