We live in illusion and the appearance of things. There is a reality. We are that reality. When you understand this, you see that you are nothing, and being nothing, you are everything.

There is no value
we cannot see,
so what we see
is what we love —
it is our reality.
And you are mine
as you live and breathe.

Yet, I am selfish with us;
Despite our age,
I hope to grow older —
and you to go before me:

I feel no pain but
your eyes on my bare pillow,
for years and years and years.
Instead,
your departure first,
when you are old,
will bring me joy —
and only then can I die
and leave this world.