I heard you.
That night when no one was around.
The whisper that reached my ear
when I was too drunk to comprehend.

I heard you.
That night on the railroad tracks.
The train blew its horn as you let the
words leave your lips.

I heard you.
The night in the front row at the race.
The cars drove by as the phrase managed
to roll off your tongue.

I hear you.
In this hospital bed after the truck had done it's damage.
And you repeat those words in your last breaths.
The last letter muffled by the beep that went on forever.