The Yale Journal for Humanities in Medicine    

Nursing: Telling Our Stories

Like Lovers

Anna-Leila Williams

I wash myself
But the smell of you
Lingers.
Like lovers
My sweat
And your sweat
Feeding one pool.
Damn you, don’t die!

One thousand one, one thousand two,
One thousand three, one thousand four,
One thousand breathe
One thousand one, one thousand two,
One thousand three, one thousand four,
One thousand breathe.

I give you all my breathe,
All my strength
And you respond.
No name,
But a pulse,
A quiet, quivering thread
Beneath my fingers
For a moment, then
Like a lover
You stare at me
And see nothing.
My weary arms, moist hands
Pushing you, begging your heart to beat.
And my brow and my palms and your chest
Feed the pool
But nothing else.

Published: May 9, 2007