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A short free verse.
Blood.
So much blood
Too much.
He couldn’t be alive.
Standing, looking down at his partner.
Afraid to move.
Afraid to know.
What if he touched him,
And his touch caused more pain?
Sinking to his knees.
Hand hovering over a chest.
Deep breath with eyes closed,
Seeing him alive and vital.
Open eyes.
Hand dropping to his chest.
Oh, thank You, God!
A beat.
Two.
Three.
Sirens.
Four.
“Move away, Sir, so we can help him.”
Last touch.
Five.
Faith.
Believe.
Breathe.
A love returned to him.
A life to continue.
Bliss.
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