the roll of the caryatids.

i talk soft, i talk loud, i don't know what he hears. when i get down next to him he responds, knowing what i'm saying even if he doesn't hear. i urge him to be attentive, to think, when his senses fail, to stay with me. and when i say that, i think how he will one day leave, and all my senses will be in mourning.