at the end,

I see us forever,
arm in arm, life in life
and there are consequences implied.
I don't want us to die.

Not early, not an accident. Though
at least we'd go together, I don't want
to end in pain, fear, screaming

and I don't want to be cut short

Of course, I don't want
to end at all
I want long years to savor this
I will not be able to believe what we have found,
not until I've been able to rub my face in it,
in its sweet fragrance and warm sleek press
and damp caress, and cold morning gooseflesh,
and warm growing-into, and learning
each the other, right through, and
through again, for ages and ages,
a long, long time
- and then only then,
will I believe my luck.

All of which means:
natural causes, most likely.
quite harsh, still

"Forever" is a hollow joke,
in lives like these, a world
made to be temporary, made
to end, and
to be over

I'm just going to blurt it out:

at the end,

...

I don't want to go first.

I don't want to think of the branching ways
you could go on from there,
I can't bear
to think of you drawn,
despairing, your life
gone forth from the world,
me cold in the ground, or some dull,
well-earned urn.
With a small plaque on it, that says
something sarcastic - I made you promise
to put on there

you honored,
though you knew I was only kidding
one last misguided attempt to lighten the pall
as I lay with your hand squeezing my withered hand,
with your hand squeezing the last of my blood
instead of my heart

and then you, so full of life, let it drop
and follow soon after,
too soon.

our threads are intertwined, but
I don't want my death to cut yours short,
to be the blade that cuts yours

But almost worse than that picture - me
so selfish, me
so jealous - to picture you waiting
the requisite year, then - your heart lighter,
you pick up and move on...

I don't want that either! What
a hard, cruel, I know - a selfish, selfish
man. And I know my ghost would only want
to follow your every step, just to feel the pain
of not sharing in

to be by your side in pain -
a pain to be preferred to heaven

Darling, please, while we're young
let's agree - you go first

for I know I won't last,
with you gone

I will follow before you can even think
to miss me