A Precious Moment Hoarded

By day and through night
My brothers and sisters waited for him.
I never knew he was gone.

In a house heavy with history forgotten,
Save a few precious moments, hoarded,
That barely made up for an hour but at least they were mine.

I found myself last night,
With all that I'd lost,
Cowering in a corner.

The reasons, submerged beneath a thick, black muck of subconscious
Thought, I would just as soon not know.
I tried so hard to shove forgiveness down his throat when it was too late and he didn't need it.

There we were, wide-eyed and grateful,
Locked in each other's arms,
As if he had never been gone.

By now I knew
The newness of his heartbeat...
The novelty of breathing...

It was then I saw.
It was then I felt
His body held tightly in my grip, no longer frail.

I felt his warmth.
The heat, an aura of life,
Brushed against my chest and I grasped the body all the more firmly.

We shared the same air for a moment.
Selfishly stealing it into our lungs,
I was so frightened of exhaling.

He'd conquered that monster
A long time ago,
But he held me all the tighter.

I felt the pressure of his embrace...
We must have stood there for hours...
Or a few precious moments, hoarded.

I don't remember him ever leaving.
We stood like statues in that haunted house
Until the rain of nothingness soaked us to the bone.

I don't remember him leaving.
We merged into ghosts and floated together
Until the wind of forgetfulness finally blew us to other shores.

I don't remember him leaving
We dissolved into baptismal waters meant for saints
Until the Sun scorched us dry.

I never knew he was gone.