October

Damn that stupid prostrate!


I was right in the middle of a cold war with you,
Right in the middle of another thunderous argument,
Right in the middle of a fiery kiss,
Adrenalin highs and Stimulation
Right in the heat and passion of things
When you yelled out in Pain.

Then there we were
Holding hands in the doctor's office,
Guilt and remorse overtaking the present state of affairs,
Torrential Cascades of prayer
That our fears wouldn't come to being
Making fervent promises
Not to waste another minute
Before we're served with notice.


Perhaps it would be better if the tables were turned.
For I am bolder, stronger.
I've overcome twenty hours of labor, A broken heart, scandals and even failure
while you've always had it together.
I guess, if  I could go through this on your behalf, I'd be a hero for you.


It's hard seeing you like this.
Helpless and angry
Detached from reality and my affection
Challenging the source of your manhood and possibly, your identity,
Chemo and chemicals have taken over where your charm and wit used to be.

Healing is not a process rushed love,
Not a quick fix like a bullet.

I can't put you out of your misery.


Damn you stupid prostrate!!!
Now we'll never know if we stayed together for the sake of a callous disease
Or if we're really meant to be.

Two devotees side by side like twin wheels.