His Name is Bubbles: a Sestina

The light of the morn hit her face
She knew the end of it was coming, too late
Nothing could prepare him, nothing would ease
The pain she would cause in a few hours time
The sun played on her face, an extreme heat,
But in her heart there was nothing but cold

She got a glass of water, cold,
A sip then some to splash her face
To get the feeling gone, the heat
Tears hit her cheeks, she'd be late.
She knew for so long, now there wasn't time.
Nothing could help, this pain wouldn't ease.

To calm her tears, there was no ease
She knew she had to steel herself, be cold.
There would be nothing after, but time.
She blinked, looked herself in the face.
She knew he was on time, never late.
She fought to keep down the heat.

He was there, not moving in the heat.
It wasn't  hard, she could do it with ease.
She could finish, and be at work a little late.
He looked at her, his eyes distant and cold.
It was the same all over his face.
She steadied her jaw, she knew it was time.

She knew it would take her no time,
It was no longer the sun that made the heat
That radiated up and out from her face.
She no longer felt surety at her jobs ease.
Her limbs now were the things that were cold.
She had been wrong, she would be very late.

It didn't help that he was already late.
He had been stiff now for some time.
His body, once radiant, had become very cold,
That was the reason she'd turned up the heat.
He had passed on, one night, with such ease,
He had jumped out of his bowl onto her face.

He'd become so cold now, he'd passed of late.
She wiped her face with her hand one more time.
Turned down the heat, flushed the toilet with ease.

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