I observed through the window as you watch the rise and fall of her sleeping chest 

 

There is a softness in your eyes and a stillness in the air 

 

I stare as you outreach your hand and brush the fly aways behind her ear, I touch my face to make sure mine are still there 

 

And I am a haunting, harrowing being

 

I find every crack and crevice to place myself in to witness the flowers blossom 

 

And when the first chill comes and those petals begin to welt, I will still be here