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J’adore Mon Tess
March 21, 2008
He whispers the name,
But can barely whisper
Breathing his decelerating breaths
Tess, Tess, Tess
Black hair, ebony almost.
Swishing lightly as she runs
Valley echoing
Tess, Tess, Tess
Closing his eyes
Dreaming away.
Tears are caught in
His net of eyelashes.
Tess, Tess
Inhaling deeply
At the top of the hill
She catches a tear in her hair
Hearing
Tess, Tess
His breaths are shorter.
Death wishes enter
His mind.
All he can say is bring me
Tess.
She knows the whispers
Are fading
Tess.
J’adore Mon Te-
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