When is it over?
When your name isn’t synonymous with “beautiful”,  
wanting to say “…the rise and fall of my heart when I hear , see,  taste, touch, smell"
encompassing the "you",
what you do too.

Sprained look,  your eyes...
Bound & sliced by silence.

and this will...fade.  
The salted end,
It’s presence
hovers. Burning..
wills itself bittersweet.