Eternity

it seems unfair to me sometimes that life has to end. i hold you in my sight paused in motion refusing to forget the patterns of your face youth only fades yet noone wants to fathom what age portrays watching you now, at age 22, your ceaseless movements both delicate and benign, you are locked in with a click like a mechanism implanted within my shaking mind. anchored in my thoughts afraid i may lose sight, dreading what is inevitably to come, our ancient human rite. what is it we have really but phases full of longing, short lifetimes of solitude, then subsequent terms of bliss it seems strange to say that i am not sorry for little secret moments such as this. i will not apologize for having lived and hoping to live long nor argue choice or afterlives or hear you claim im wrong. it seems we believe in nothing more than dirt and cold and brine i believe in the simple glory of your hands large and gregarious inside my small ones, eternity proven, entwined.