I hold your bony hand,
pray, preach, cry
yell at you for losing
your will to live.
And sometimes I think
I see that flicker
in your eye,
a rosy glow
on your cheek.
But again, you relapse
and I feel you slipping
like sand through my fingers.
I kiss your sandpaper lips
again and again
hoping that will bring you
back to me once more.
It's like trying to catch
water with a sieve,
absolutely futile.