It is quiet here;

You lie motionless.

I have come to give

My final farewell.

My heart is pounding;

I long to caress

Your face and curl up

Beside your still form.

Instead, I lean down

And whisper to you.

My heart cries fiercely,

"It is I, belov'd."

In comparison,

The words poured from my

Lips seem woefully

Inadequate, cheap.

As I gaze upon you,

Studying ev'ry

Infinite detail,

At last I gain the

Courage to tell you

What my heart has felt.

Again, I lean down,

Drawing ever near.

I move, unhurried,

Until my face rests

Inches from your own.

With one more deep breath,

I close the small gap.

My lips touch your cheek,

Gently and with all

Form of tenderness.

You do not respond.

Yet I feel, somehow,

That you are aware.

After such time of

Tortuous ages,

I am finally

Able to bare my

Timid heart to you.

I tell you, for both

The first and last time,

"I love you so much."

Author's note: In memory of Tony; 1982-10-17 to 2014-06-17 (Poem written in 2014)