If I....

If I were dying of cancer

would you hold me?

Cry with me?

Run with me?

Jump with me?

Laugh with me?

Losing all my hair,

laughing at the futility of it all,

still appreciating your smile;

I want to feel your touch.

I want to reach out to you -

because people rarely do.

Your lips aren't the goal;

nor is your heart, really.

I've nothing to win;

nothing to do:

I just want your attention,

your ears,

your affection;

your every affectation.

If I were dying of cancer,

my bones like bonemeal,

skin sallow like dead pig skin,

would you stroke my balding head?

Would you do that for me?

(And not condescend me?)

Would you sit with me

in a meadow of sunflowers

and daffodils

and just grow in the sunshine?

And what if I

didn't have cancer -

would you

do that for me,

too?