On Love and Loving
I have never loved, well not in the way
I should have. Not in the way that on my
death bed, memories of the one I loved
will fill my mind, visions of his face
clouding my already dim eyes, as I whisper
heart felt words of what he meant to me
and how my life was made that much better
by loving him and being loved by him.
Tears of loss will rain from my eyes as they
closed to blackness, the memories of him left there,
lingering above my death bed. I would have liked
that, liked to experience the kind of love that
follows you almost into death.
Antoinette is not ready for the end of the world (at least not yet).
