If I could, still, I would cry
A well of the tears of my Love for you
And taste the acrid waters
Of a depth great enough to soar
Transcending into the Sublime
The Infinite, The Beauty... off the grime.

But I cannot, anymore.
So I dwell into the Lack, of You
In an emptiness large enough to fill
Each, every and all of the Spaces
Between Here, Now, There, Then
Between You, I, and All...

Between Everywhere, and Everywhen.

-Emelit