My ears may never fall upon you again.
And for that, I want to create something that is lasting, perennial.
For you, my words have no beginnings,
and no endings.

They are timeless.

If I could, I would leave everything to you.
I gave you a song, I give you my words.
When I am gone, the words written about me, will be all about you, there will be no question.

Some days, I spell out your name, in ­my mind, over and over,
and over again, making each letter consonant with each vowel sound, open, never closed.
I close my eyes, hoping the letters you give me will never end.

A memory of me laying with you, locked in an embrace,
listening, like a ******, to your breath, each exhale becoming my inhale.
I mourn that you are not with me.

I see your picture.
I close my eyes, and frame your voice,
your deep, deep voice.
I close my eyes, never to open them again.
For you, my poem will never end.

My last breath will be poetic justice,
With poetry, I plan, finishing me off.
I will inhale all the letters you wrote me, exhaling them into words.

My last breath will be dramatic,
As dramatic as any Shakespearean play.
I will give new meanings to new words, created just for you.

My last breath will be music.
Each note wholed, halved and quartered. Then semi-toned.
Sung on the A’s, the E’s, and the I, O, U’s

My last breath will be a dance.
Not a dance of death, nor the Foxtrot, the Boogaloo, or the Running Man.
You will be held in my arms, ever-so tightly,
In a waltz.

My last breath will be with you,
holding me tight, saying words, singing songs.
Embraced, in a kiss.

My last breath, my love,
will be spent with you.

Eyes closed to dream.

To dream about you.

Not a dream of a yesterday you,

or a you of today,

but the you of tomorrow.

But, no dreams came.

My eyes open and you are there.

There, standing in front of me.

There, standing face-to-face.

I feel the cool air of your breath on my lips.

You kiss me and my eyes close.

My eyes close, and I still see you.

You say something, I hear you, but am too afraid.

Afraid you won’t be there.

I close my eyes even tighter, trying to hold on.

Hold-on to a dream.


I open my eyes and you are there, still.

Still standing in front of me, still face-to-face. Still

The cool air from your breathing brushing my lips.

Your lips touch mine, and you tell me things.

Each word you speak, vibrating from your lips to mine.

Pulling you closer, closing my eyes,

I now feel you talk. You talk and I feel you.

I am,

moved.


But you have moved me before.

Each time, with your words.

I have listened to you before.
Each time, 
clinging to every word.

Stripping each down to its letter,

each time, trying to find meaning,

any kind of meaning. Each time,

to only find
they
were 

worthless.


You kiss me again.

My eyes open, so I can see.

Your eyes are open too.

And we kiss. And as we kiss,

with our eyes wide open,

I realise then,

as you realised some time ago,


I am on a Fool’s Errand.