I can’t fathom
the thought of spending
the rest of my life
without your breath
against my back at night,
your soft exhalations,
your arm against my hip.
I lie awake, immobile,
listen to the rise and fall
of waves. Grief compresses
my windpipe like a tourniquet,
pushes words deep into my belly:
they find their place
amongst all the other truths
too terrible to utter.
I can’t bring myself to know
I will lose you, yet I will lose you.
We always wanted to let go
at the same time, but you must
leave before me. Meanwhile,
I urge you to eat soup,
buy you steaming bowls
of cioppino and pho. Your
presence small and fierce
on the couch. Such courage
I will never have. I can’t
be half of what you are, even
as you begin the process
of vanishing. Your smile
keeps both of us alive.
Artwork by: Maryam Baniasadi
