Her eyes droop and close,
a ragged cough, a forced
breath–

her frail hand, worn and beautiful
clasps his, in hers
a practiced movement;
laced fingers, slotting together
like old puzzle pieces–

his lips move, but he does not speak,
their hands gripping one another
tighten briefly–

her eyelids half-open,
lips part, unsteady breathing louder now,
she coughs,
and closes her mouth–

his body frigid momentarily,
and then he loses it,
abruptly he rises with a young mans grace–

her body lifted into his arms,
his frail muscles forgotten,
caressing her weathered body as though
she were born only yesterday–

his lips part, pressing fiercely to
her cool dry lips,
and she is gone–

her spirit,
soaring with the wind,
her body,
always his.