Smokescreen
Can you breathe?
The Rorschach test says I have a wonderful imagination,
So why is it that I cannot imagine how it would feel,
To be by your feeble bedside, holding your hand,
While you tap out frugal indicators of life;
And mumble nothing more than names and a birth date.
Because the words have left that beautiful mouth of yours,
Which used to kiss me long and often,
And now I stare at it, with eyes intent on your ulcers,
Convincing myself that they are fewer and smaller than yesterday.
And when it becomes too much for me to bear,
When the bleached white sheets and industrial lotion pierce
And make permanent residences in my nose;
I run out of the room,
I lean on the beam,
I close my eyes and I dream.
About your bright shiny eyes,
The embers of which,
Have been snuffed out by this black dampness,
Your lovely smile, your funny laugh,
Gone, lost, and replaced by drools I can no longer tease you for,
Your strong arms, which were my solace when I was weak,
Are now lean and can barely hold themselves up,
In my mind’s eye, your long legs,
Need only get out of bed to stand up.
But the luxury of dreaming was not mine to take,
Nor was the luxury of living yours to make.
Cold and crushed, I walk back into the room I tore myself away from,
To see you lying on the bed; mouthing pleading, marred words.
You look at me with growing urgency, but I’m not ready to give up on you yet,
There must be a God, a drug, a miracle man — someone or something,
That can defy all constraints of logic and cure the ailing you.
If that cannot be the case,
You can fight it with every ounce of energy you have left, you can defeat it,
You can still find a way to be there for me, be with me.
With a heavy heart I realize; it’s a possibility that shall not be,
I am selfish in my wants and needs, but not so selfish
That I can ignore your pain any longer,
You can go in peace my love, I say,
You can go away.
You look at my face with gratitude and light,
And all of a sudden, you begin to beep,
There’s a frantic rush of doctors and nurses and carts and sliver-steel,
As I look on in horror and unfathomable grief.
The doctors tell the time as I stand out,
Against the black backdrop of the
world around me.
Forget my silent consent my love, come back to me.
Fill this empty space; fill my big, blank mind.
You do nothing but beep, until you’re turned off.
…
The next thing I remember is opening my eyes,
I’m sweaty and flushed and it’s a dark, dead night.
Panic-stricken I look over to my side,
Where I see you, who’s fallen fast asleep.
It’s just a dream my love, I tell the sleeping you.
It shall never materialize, it shall never come true.
For at my word, the last cigarette fell from your lips ages ago,
While it took me all this time to let the fear fall from my heart.
I slip out from under the covers and tiptoe to your half of the bed,
To look at you, listen to your lips,
And all I hear are your strong, deep breaths;
Your unperturbed snores.
Breathe my love, I say to you. Breathe strong and breathe clean.
Take this crisp air into your lungs and let your chest rise and fall,
Snore out loud,
Make your little noises;
They shall disturb me no more.
You will live forever, I tell you,
You will live long.
For I could never let anything happen to you,
In fate, fable or song.
