Lightly blowing me away,
the feathers from your angel.
This cancer is not deadly,
but it hurts
and death sounds like a paradise.

We had a house out in the distance
you left [not even a goodbye]
and ever of forever.
I saw you in the city,
your skirt blowing with the breeze
that your angel left behind.
We had a dog in our home
that you forgot to feed.

You mumble a prayer to yourself
every morning, every night,
but never in the afternoon.
I can see your lips move-
God can see as well-
but when you look around there are
too many people.
Too many prayers.

I can feel your every move,
I can feel your every touch.
Don't stop, don't ever stop.
Your touch is powerful. It's healing,
like the doves on Christmas eve.
Your touch is white,
full of paradise,
and smiles,
and hope.
I
feel.
I no longer hurt.

I knew you in another life,
and dreamed of you the entirety of this life
[this life..]
and ever
of forever.

it's not bad.