The low gets worse. It scares him. 
It scares you.
You count his breaths. 

You can’t untangle this.
Or stop and start again.
He’s hanging onto your hand.

In that darkness you seal the deal:
your death for his unencumbered life.
You are more than ready to say yes.

You lay your palm on his head
like you used to
back when the fever would pass.