The first time I held you in my arms,

was an innocent hug meant to comfort a friend.

I did not know that feeling you against me

would change my life forever.

Though I loved the warmth of you,

I could not linger in your embrace.

The second time, we grasped each other desperately as we shared our love

This time I could finally hold you longer,

and let the heat of your skin soak into my bones

as I turned to you like a flower in the sun.

The third time, I held you so tight I could feel your flesh go taught in the harsh grip of my hands,

but you did not hold me with the same ferocity.

Your hands did not explore my back,

your chin did not poke insistently on my shoulder,

your chest did not beat against mine.

I knew I would never feel your warmth again,

as I looked into your eyes and only saw the emptiness of death.