For 50 years

For fifty years we were the same person, and did not know each other.
If I could go back in time

I would search for her in kindergarten,
         to be with her at play time,
         to sit next to her in class,
         to comfort her when the teacher is angry,
         to defend her when friends are mean,
         to be warmed by her smile across the playground.

I would be with her in highschool
         to make noble plans,
         to play games until dusk,
         to hold hands in the cinema,
         to hike in the mountains and swim in the sea,
         to smile at the caress of her soft breath when she's close.

I would look for her after work
         to laugh at the day's stories,
         to dance and then walk in the streets until dawn,
         to visit her parents and help in the garden,
         to dine late with friends,
         to have children to love who smile like her.

We were close because we were alone,
         to do what we did not do together when young,
         to read quietly the same books,
         to hear the music we love,
         to drink tea in the afternoon,
         to smile because we think the same thoughts.

If I could,
         I would blend with her and share her illness,
         I would fight the cancer and defeat it,
         I would grow old and frail with her,
         I would lay down beside her in the cool afternoon, and
         smile as my life ended with hers.