I gawked at the man give her his last breath and I froze.
I had never seen such kindness given to death, in black and white.
Hope flourished where it died and my feet stood their ground.
I was never meant to see this.
Because love wasn't meant to be seen in darkness.
Love did not flourish in the midst of dead things.
It wasn't supposed to exist without sex and passion and lust and tears.
But it did and I understood.
I saw a love that needed no explanation or thought.
I saw a love that thinned a man and gave life to a dead woman.
I saw them both die yet live their own legacy.
This love story was never meant to be told.
A trueness I would never know.
Because I want sex and tears and sin and color.
I'll never want death.
I would never ask.
Because when deadness hangs, I run and yelp.
But I do not cry.
Because that would mean l love with the truest love.
Not fearing the crunch of a leaf beneath my wavering feet.
I would ask.
I would welcome dead things.
I would die without fighting.
And I would love with everything
and give death my last breath