Overheard Conversation, ICU

–from a Line by Roberto Bolaño

I am dying with many things to say.

Do I have to speak? I know you know

My love was like mist thrown from the waves.

When I die, you will have many things to say.

Once more, my love, I will not obey.

March can be hushed and covered with snow.

I am dying with many things to say.

Do I have to speak? You know what you know