if i dig deep enough
surely i will find

true root of you
all i need of you
never given

once denied it seems
i must pine as tree to be
obsessively in love but perhaps

tis only envy, mortography
memorography, encapsulating me,
it won't last, tis just a mood

nothing a spell cannot be unspelled
but letters & songs they matter
more than we imagined
we are caught in between what

we felt then & where we want to be

who knows where

the time

goes?

remaining mortal is
curse enough
our love is mortality
writ in water, not dust

thus it lives on

because I wrote

it so