I walked into her apartment, her hands I held
Her hands were boney, sinewy, and weakly curled
Around mine
She had a good life

Among the lamp shade and sewing tools
Carelessly strewn, I held her head on mine
I cried out my lungs
Imagine my surprise when she spoke

She wanted to live
Because life was full of passion
And friends should not be set aside
For death can always sit beside in silence

Her scent filled the room
Fragrance that reminded me of fresh air
The windows were open
She had let out a sigh with rising sun

Her eyes twinkled like the oceanic green
Stars paled in comparison to such sheen
Death never looked so serene
On a face