Like Silence

I held your shoulder while you were asleep.
I swear a voice from behind me
spoke lucid and real “remember to hold her,
to joy with her laugh,
to speak lullabies to her tears.
This life is not yours to keep.”
So now I mold my body around yours,
to never forget the shape.
I keep journals to record the melodies of your dreaming breaths:
the last entry says your heat was like
a river, your heart like a rhythm, your
twitching nose like the final
beat of a hummingbird’s wings before
it lays in its nest.
Your eyes fluttered open like the sun.
My fears lifted with your hand,
like silence.

Leave a Comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s