He was afraid that if she closed her eyes they would never open again
She was always tired these days, her smile stunted, the crinkling in her eyes when she laughed, foreshadowed by the tears,
Like rain droplets underneath which they danced at 3 pm in the Missouri crossings,
And after the luminous laughs shared and warmth shared between their lips came her sickness, closer than ever, threatening to force them apart
Fever always forced her way inside her head, and cough rented her lungs paying the rent in the form of monthly hospital trips
He always held her hand, kissing the back of her palm, clutching it harder than an addicts grip on white powder,
They diagnosed her with tuberculosis, her lungs, breathed out melodies of Coldplay and Laura marling for him when the night felt too long,
                              Now they breathed in his pain, his fear of losing her to darkness.
Her sunken pale face, wishing on anything and everything that proves to be lucky, an eyelash, sight of a black car when driving underneath train on a bridge,
Crossing fingers to survive through this nightmare that has sketched its outline,
                                                        ­                                          And filled its grey shades in their lives.
He cocoons his body around her in the white bed, her fragile body, connected with an I-V, they could have been a beautiful butterfly, but destiny stunted their growth
She just wants to close her eyes to wish, for the last time, to be able to see his face every day for the rest of the eternity,
                       But he is afraid that if she closes her eyes, she might never open them again.