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If dying knew when the sky would leave its blue in my eyes, my smile on the things loved, on the shelf of dreams my longings, pure feelings with me it would take me.
I would not stop loving when I leave, my love would flow with those who love me, as if a river were its tributary and sailed towards the sea of infinity, love would accompany me.
If dying knew when I would live every millisecond breathing in, breathing in your love like the oxygen that runs out, and give myself in your arms every day every morning.
My love, make love to me, for life is going away with its eternal baggage of impossibilities on its back, come feel me now that I breathe, that the dawn has come, my life love me as if existence were coming to an end.
A poem loaded with a subtle farewell and projection of what is desired at death, thank you for sharing it.