She began unconsciously;
the habit sprang from her heart
and manifested itself in reality
without the bother of decision
or cognizant thought.
She was his vessel, even before
she knew to call herself one.

She inhaled him, drawing each
breath he expelled deep inside her,
filling herself up with his sighs.
She collected his laughter,
his thoughts, his tears and
saved them in protected places.
She gathered the words
that lingered, unspoken, in his
pauses and held them in her hands
as if cradling small universes,
before tucking them, too,
safely away.

Every tangible offering, from
the Chinese fortune he had pulled
from the broken cookie shell
to the little note with
“Can you feel me trembling…? ”
scrawled in his shaky handwriting,
was quietly confiscated.
She collected his dreams
like a child does pennies,
accumulating tomorrow’s fortune
and stashing it away.

Every touch of his hand,
every beat of his heart,
the sound of his voice,
his passion, his beauty,
his melodies,
his essence…
she hoarded them all -
storing them away as she had
the notebooks he had trusted
to her for safekeeping.

She began unconsciously;
the habit an insistence of her soul.
She was, in every way she
could think to do so…

saving his life.

Christine Austin Cole

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/saving-his-life/