Jaye Marie and Anita Dawes

Steamy mirrors

Dead fingers have written

Your time is coming

I wiped it away, my hand

Touching the space

Where death had written

My hand felt strange

Like touching an electric wire

Shaking my hand did no good

It began to itch

Running it under cold water didn’t help

The feeling grew along the length of my arm

The doctor could find no reason for it

The feeling lasted for two days

I found a site online

Under mystic messages

I read that I had touched my own death

I thought no more of it

For as we know, death waits for each of us

At 23 I felt I had time to do what I wanted

I was wrong, I did not reach my next birthday

now I write on steamy mirrors…

©anitadawes