I wanted to say, when my little hand grasped your aged one.
Those hands that once grabbed ropes of a home-made swing on a tree,
that later borne a wedding ring,
and then held me.
Each time I see you,
I see your hair getting a little whiter,
your knee buckling a little more than usual,
your breath a little wheezier.
Each time I see you,
I feel time in between us.
And I clutchontoyou.
I know that each day I spend with you is one less day with you.
And my fear of losing you grows each time I say goodbye and you leave to go home.
I held your hand, and you held mine.
you gave me a little squeeze and I held on tight.
I know it is a lost battle when I starting competing with time,
but I don't want to lose you,
i'm grieving,
stay mine.