With Heart

It takes her heart to fill the needled holes
already full of samples
hope, pain.
Sickness pins him to the sheets
and statically collects
his last pieces of black hair. Yet

she rains down laughter, fulfilled
flying dreams he never thought would be.
A few simple smiles
she seeks so he might have strong
memories. Now

sh-sh-shiv-v-v-vers wrack
him, attack bones and joints.
They do not listen
and she is gone only three hours
while this strange weakness peels
his muscles away.
He tries, tries to ring the bell
at the bedside for her mother
who can put another blanket 'round
the seven already shrouding him.
Burnt orange rolls from forehead
into tearing eyes and hot ears
down the veins of his neck
before he finds himself again

At emergency room doors.
Their silver weight mocks his warm-taffy elbows.
Still in he goes, close she soon follows
to the hospital room. First night spent
in that dying place.
And she knows he hurts.
Keeps them both going
with smiles and heart.