I stood beside the steel table, staring at
The white sheet folded low over his hips and
The way the tattoos covering most of his upper body
Stood out, shocking and brilliant, against his pale skin.
I traced the bold, black lines over his forearm,
And the colored ones along his biceps and shoulder,
And pressed my lips to the mark just over his heart,
The simple, but solid and permanent, 'H+K'.
I touched him, held him, kissed him and prayed,
But his eyes didn't open and his mouth didn't curve
In one of his rare, broad and breathtaking smiles.
He was just still and cold, and he was gone.