I have killed us, darling

Wherever I go, there's you. Always you. And I preserve your memory by reading your books, attending your concerts, listening to your music, paying attention to the things that mattered to you (becoming you). The only way, keeping you alive, keeping your love alive (you still do, don't you?).

I meet it everywhere - it pulls me forward when the wind is too strong, it keeps me company before sleep, it haunts me when I see the child beside her mother (our child will never be born). And I cry, I cry for the unborn, for the future that isn't ours anymore, for you, for me, for a life that has no joint place.

(I know you're my construction, you've become poetry now in a way you could never have been then. The only fuel I recognize is pain.)

Still, you gave me the warmth during the nights, the words during the days. The air I breathed was through your lungs, the love I felt wasn't love until you made it visible. It was your heart that gave me life. You were my antidote, my antiforce, even against myself.