In the last that I breathe,
I will not perish,
for my very spirit
is my love for you,
which upon my end,
will be immortalised;
manifested in your own being,
where it does belong.
As I wither, my breath,
in harmony with your heartbeat,
will evanesce into yours.
The irony is my love for you
that makes so little of me
so my fading is its eternalisation,
as it finds sanctum in you.
…
It will not be my death that embraces me in my last breath, but my love that will be manifested in you, because my being — my very spirit — is my love for you. Today, my breath is in harmony with your heartbeat, and it will so fade into your breath as I die. My innate love for you consumes me, makes so little of me, so much so that my death is what makes my love immortal, for it will be enshrined in you.
