The Corpse of my Lover

I'm holding you,
loving you,
kissing desperately,
longingly
answering back your hunger.
The love we make is beautiful,
more so than the setting sun,
or morning dew
kissing dark green leaves.

But it's overshadowed now,
like so many times before -
by the prominence of your hip bones,
gnawing into my side;
by the gauntness of your shoulder,
now too sharp to lay on;
by the shaking of your arms,
too weak to support your weight;
by the cutting of your shoulder blades,
like tiny razor wings,
growing from your back,
to escort you into the after world
where again you are on the road
to travel by.

Here in this moment,
where love should victor all,
I am holding you,
overwhelmed by the feeling,
that I am kissing,
the soon to be corpse
of my lover.