to breathe my deep

I am thinking of how,
when Jane was sick -
for a long time, I would kiss her and taste
the subtle shift and changes in her body chemistry.

For months, I begged her to go to the doctor.
She had no symptoms of her cancer, but
I could smell it
on her breath.

It was metallic.
Cold.
Like the thing growing death
inside of her.

I knew.

"Perhaps your fillings are leaching
into your bloodstream?" I said.
For months, I begged her to find out
if something was wrong.

When she finally presented with pain,
it was nearly 6 months later.

The doctor didn't think it was anything...
...but did the requisite bloodwork and culture
all the same.

They caught it,
on the outer edge of phase 1. And.
She's alive to this day.

---------------

I wish.

Someone was there
to hold me in the dark.
Like I held her
then.

To hold me so close, she
inhales my breathing as I sleep.
And whispers a silent prayer,
that I may be healed.


- jen busch