death had soft hands
with veins snaking beneath
paper thin skin, touching my palms
     how could i forget?
      the warmth of his presence
        that demanded all attention
          for my gaze to fixate on him and him alone
            like the sun
              setting on the final day of summer
                 when all memories of youth
                    were merely bygone thoughts
                       in overexposed dreams
                  
and he was beautiful
a smile of pearls
   a voice like honeysuckle and
     the gentle afternoon breeze
       like wind chimes blowing
         had i forgotten?
        
he breathes life into me
  as he takes it away
     and gladly
     i let him
     it would be a crime not to
    
he pressed his lips
against mine
   and with a sigh
                                      finally
      i let him in.