BEST BELOVED

 

I can’t remember  when it was I stopped really  looking at you, but here beside me in bed, I am shocked to see that you have turned into someone old. Lying facing me, your head on the pillow, I can see how the loose flesh has distorted your face into  a melted waxwork  facsimile of someone I used to know. Your mouth, half open and relaxed, your exhalation deep and rhythmic, I can smell the night’s sleep on your breath.

Your eyes closed in sleep allow me to  examine your lashes which even now, are longer than they should be on a man. Your eyebrows are barely visible as like your hair, they have turned snow white.

I never knew you when you were young, but you often talk of how red your hair was and how proud you felt for it being so. The only concession to your  heritage now being the golden tinge to the hairs on your arms, and your temper when crossed.

You tell me you had freckles as a child, and although your skin suggests a vulnerability to the sun, all I see are the light brown patches of a skin that is giving up to age.

You open your eyes and smile at me. Your eyes are green although in the early days of our love, I would swear they were blue with desire as we lay together naked on the bed

You smile again and whisper, “I love you” and as you do this, you place your palm on my shoulder. Your hand is warm and square with fingers that despite their short nails, are expert at fixing things too fiddly and too complex for mine.

I know you want nothing more than to be with me forever and that from the day we met, you have been steadfast in your love. For you, there has been no need to  question why we are here or where the road will lead us.

Others say you have taken more than your share of life but sometimes when I look I see  the  screen that hides a pain you will not,  or cannot  voice. But lying here beside you this morning, your palm warming the chill of my shoulder, your smile teasing my heart back to life, I look at you again and drink in your love.