white furniture

Mute

And we sit waiting,
                  surrounded by;
white walls,
                  blue furniture.
                                         A sea
          of calming colours
                                        while you
                  are here -
unable to speak,
                            to say “I love you”.

I clasp your hand,
                             squeezing
         tight -
                              a replacement
for communication
                      in the silence. There are
no chances
                    of a kiss;
                                    the little white
blisters,
             swarming in your
                                         throat like
        foxgloves.

Our interlaced fingers -
                              the only remaining
           hint of love.