“What if I disappear?”
She asks,
Her voice a deteriorating whisper.
“I’ll come find you,”
I say easily,
Expecting a flippant laugh or a snort or even kisses sweet.
But she says nothing.
We lay there,
Vacant and immobile.
We don’t speak;
We unravel silently,
Decomposing, un-being.
White sheets cradle our bones,
As her white hands cradle my heart.
The truth is,
I fear.
She was a shadow of a person.
I filled her with love and life and grand ideas of the future,
But the cavity in her mind was a pitless abyss.
She could disappear now,
This very second,
And I would remain,
With not a single ort of her existence,
To ease my way.
So we lay there,
Still as corpses or trees.
Barefoot and cold,
In an unspoken reverie.
[Featured image: Silvia Grav]