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Angels are dancing slow

 


Her heart’s beating next to mine, there’s no space between us.

Her face snuggles into my shoulder. I’m sorry she sobs.
I wrap my arms around her, her softness, her warmth, I smell her hair, I caress her cheek with mine. I want to expand so much that I completely envelope her, I want my arms to be so light, they squeeze away all the pain, the numbness, the paralysis, the throbbing torment, I try, in that moment, to make her well, I try , I try. I pray.
I sink into her. Our lips embracing and love is all I know.
Softly we sway.
There ain’t no band here.
My eyes are shut. My salvation, my joy, my everything,
Us two old age pensioners.
Not a moment separates us.
The croissants, honey, guitars, incense sticks and the sea, they were never meant to be.
We see no one, the illness has been terribly isolating these many decades, you have no idea.
All around us, love romancing.
Holding her body.
Ain’t no one else here, this is nowhere at all.
Tonight, though, the angels are dancing slow.
Angels are dancing slow.

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