I debated telling you this:
if I have a choice,
I want to die in my sleep.
That’s the problem with paper letters.
You never got this message.
I waited for you to tell me everything was going to be ok
that you had found a place where darkness met silence
a purpose to want, a way to find the deepest peace.
Defined by absent space
cracks found between nightly bodies
our touch unspoken conversations
marks and manifestos of eternal devotion.