Being with you,
Watching your chest for the rise and fall of your breath.
Gentle and unobtrusive breaths.
Signalling you're still alive.
In a moment or two of day dreaming
I free you from the nasalgastric tube,
and carry you out beyond your empty wheelchair.
We're together now in some marketplace in France
and we walk down a cobble stoned street hand in hand.
Your brown eyes like melted chocolate
In the scented breeze,
Your hair blowing over your pale skin.
And I look at you from depths of unparalleled lovingness.
The gnawing loss.
Drowns in laughs and mad shouts of living and fun.
Oh that something would puncture all this and reality tumble back,
So callous and thieving.