Fading

He has big brown eyes and brown sugar skin. Damaged licorice eyebrows. His hair, a faded black and white cookie soft to the touch. When he spoke, it was as if everyone had vanished. But his skin is now as cold as ice. His words have become as empty as the pages he writes on. The tired man that now stands before me can barely hold himself up. The foreign words “I love you” have not passed his lips in a long time. Still, a small drained smile appears upon his face as he says my name for what seems like the very last time.