To die,
decade by decade,
    with subtlety and intimacy:

Face up to the Universe,
eyes open, dreaming on an inhale,
legs, feet, toes pointed South,
arms outstretched - an East
to West avenue - body poised
for painless crucifixion;

Suffocated by a blanket
of evening stars; stabbed softly
by blades of summer grass,
sprung from the soil of
winter's annual exasperation;
crushed by the steady
grip of your loving
hand around my heart.

And our fingers greet
each other in a gesture
of unity, love latched
through the fleshy loop
of silent understanding:

To live,
moment by moment,
    with tomorrow on the tips of my toes.