Don't speak.
For an hour,
let's be skin, sinew, and sweat:
warm, moist, obsessed.
Don't cry.
For an hour,
set aside the sight of Ben
in a hospice bed.
Don't doubt.
For an hour,
any move you choose will thrill me:
touch, stroke, kiss, lick.
Don't think.
For an hour,
you have permission to demand,
need, want, laugh, lie.
Don't plan.
In an hour,
we'll button up our shirts,
and bring a book to Ben.