Fall Apart

One of my favorites about the fear of loss

Sometimes I fear that you will fall apart.
Your veins will gently detach themselves
And fall to the ground.
The china-blue under your eyelashes
Will crumble under the weight
Of their own beauty
And your lashes will flutter down onto
Their little dusty pile.
Sometimes you seem too delicate
Like your skin can't take the sun
Or the wind will just peel it off.
Your hair, silky and brown,
Will melt into your skull
As it too liquifies
Behind
What used to be your eyes.
Sometimes I wonder if every touch I lay on your body
Will dust off bits of your bones.
And your ribs
That your butter-soft skin used to stretch over as you reached,
Will dissolve into powder
Along with your toes
And your fingers
And your spine
And your once-broken nose.
Or maybe if I hug you too tightly
I will crack something
And it will stab into your heart
That beats with such eager fragility
And it will pulse no longer,
Despite my adoration of its ability
To keep you breathing.
Sometimes I fear when you go about your day
With your boyish, fearless, happy ways
You will get stabbed or burned or jarred
And you will stop there in your tracks
And completely fall apart.