Love is a recondite matter.
For Her love is an abysmal lake
Of tears and unrequited adulation.
His love was once a duck
that kissed the lake top,
that skimmed the adoring water with its capricious plumage,
that tended to the lake,
and nourished by feeding on the reeds at the waters edge.

Until season changed,
Crisp air blew ripples across the lakes surface.
Yet the lake remained deep and unchanged
And the duck flew south and away
to another, more shallow pond
Remained there.
Leaving Her in want.

She no longer belongs to Herself,
But desires to acquire her souls counterpoint in him.

Her eastern waters warm with each setting night
Her depths and hopes, endless
That one day he will dive among her waves
and this time,

stay.

She begs the wind to keep at bay.