UNTIL

As she holds me to her bosom,
I can feel her sadness choking me.
And her fears like fingers,
Run erotically on my spine.

As I touch her she withdraws,
Morphing into an obscure softness
That comforts as she holds me there,
Singing to me in her entrancing voice.

I weep crouching like a child,
My tears staining her heaving chest.
She soothes me with her sighs,
In a way words could never comfort.

I could lie here all night,
Shielded by melancholy,
Wrapped in the scents of oblivion,
Tantalised by the voiceless night.

As I lay there I pray,
That nauseating pains erupt,
Till a numbness sets in,
And the fear of death forever goes away.