The Desire to Touch Tears

In some apocalyptic moment,
for the last time—
your breath touched my lips.

You know, it's raining hard.
Will you get soaked in the rain?
Won't you catch fever?

Don't worry about me—
I don't get fever,
I only get 'you.'

When you come, then
very slowly—
I'll place my tears upon your lips.
And into your restlessness—
I'll merge my breath.