You look at me with unending compassion.
Am I dying in this light?
Will I be coming with you?
You are intent upon my position
Focused on me, almost predatory.
And you are here
Entering my space,
As if your gaze were plastered
To an insect,
Or behind smooth plate glass.
Your empty sky-blue eyes
Are dangerously, everlasting
And full of love's light.
Will I be coming with you now?
Are you the last I will ever see?
You smile at me.
Will you take my hand
And lead me into less pain
Than what I have known here?
Are you my wings to Heaven?
