Sticks and clay

It's not as if I was going to die - he said.

And I remember wishing it was.
Because death was something I could deal with.

I wanted to tell him he was someone
I'd like to spend a lifetime with.
But I never knew how to ask.

Then, he parted to find out what the world was made of,
what life can a life be when you
have to build yourself out of sticks and clay.

I stayed out of the way.