When your body began to age, I watched, folded in the leaves of autumn. Dripping decay and you focused on the colours I made, the branches I claimed. Your eyes saw me and admired yet feared my honesty. we danced when you lost your father, on the bathroom floor when you attempted to join me. I held you close and felt the cold clasp of your hands, when you ended old ways of thinking and let go. When you held your womb and knew it would remain empty, I was present. You neglected me for years, avoiding graveyards, news, books that made you uncomfortably aware until I found you. When you chose to have a dog that you loved like a child, I came to settle on your eyelashes, falling in pools that reflected loss. I gathered your belongings and some wore out and others broke down. I was the enemy until one day I wasn’t. When your hold on life slipped and I held you close, weaving into your blood and caressing the fear out of you.