The Last Cup of Water
On any given night
in the middle of my sleep
should I have awakened, parched,
and asked for water,
you would always bring it for me.
You held it by my mouth,
took a drink yourself,
placed it on the bed stand,
and then set your head
upon my shoulder.
I would squeeze you tight,
and stroke your hair…
You always went that extra mile
to show your love to me.
In case I had forgotten
to tell you before,
‘Thank You.’
But now I look down
and see an empty pillow
where I used to be…
Watching you hold it tight
and cry yourself to sleep, alone;
‘Don’t be Sad.’
My dry scalp
which you used to dust off frantically
every morning…
still stains the pillow covers.
Traces of me,
beneath your tears,
you now hold onto
with a tiger’s grasp
tight,
as my properties are
forgotten by your senses…
little by little
every night.
You would wait for me to exit
the bathroom in the morning
overtly grumpy,
yet secretly happy
to get in a little extra snooze time,
on my account.
I would come out and gently wake you, reminding you that you were late
for work.
And now every room
is all yours,
all the time.
If I were to visit you in steam
after a bath
don’t be frightened.
Breath me in,
drink me up,
and refresh yourself.
Keep me alive.
For I do not wish to ever leave you,
I just can’t.
I am so attached to ‘us,’
that I simply cannot move on.
Perhaps one day we shall wake up together again,
and ‘the last cup of water,’
shall survive us,
as a hypothetical story.
I miss you my love
and somewhere out here
in the cold,
far from your touch…
I am alone
and I am thirsty –
for you.
Please stop crying
for someday soon I will hold you again
within my arms of light and protect you once more,
as we shall live together,
infinitely.
Nothing will ever replace your love
and your presence.
Watching over you,
Always and Forever…
Timeless
and now
Nameless.
Copyright © 1986-2017
Alan Salé
All Rights Reserved
contact: AASalehi@gmail.com