Every time he arrives, I remember every time he's been here before.
Once he is gone, it is as if my
memory never touched him.
Awakening in the dark to the sounds of his heavy breathing,
I remember again what he stands for
and become frightened.
What he is represents the end of me.
He is midnight and coldness, alien to my warm blood.
As I turn over in my bed to see him here again,
all my memories of life flood back to me,
all the many times I have ended when I saw his face.
It chills me and hurts me,
makes me cry for all the times I have died
and all the lives I have forgotten I lived.
All the people I'd promised my soul to,
and all the lips I have kissed with a promise of forever,
all become broken memories
when he comes and takes forever from me.
I fear his face.
There are dark shadows here,
and he comes to break my marriage to my husband
and my life
once again.
When he touches me, his fingertips do not feel like ice.
His face is not blackness, but is instead a sheet of gold
hidden behind a shadow.
When the shades part he is here,
glowing in front of me again.
Every time I die,
I remember that my only true marriage is to Death.