Someone once asked me
If I was afraid of dying.
I said yes.
What else is there to be afraid of
Besides that?
Now, looking at you
Your breath against my neck
Your eyes searching my face
Your smell soaking into my sheets
I realize I answered like a child.
If I am asked that question again
I think I will answer
that I am afraid of one thing
That one day
Your eyes will close
Your head will turn
and I will lose you
To someone
Who isn't me.