“I do not know when love became evanescent,
I know not of another that has felt this way,
Your name is a hand I can never hold or embrace,
Love for her now became a smoldering virtue,

I think of lovers as trees growing to and fro,
Always searching for the same light sun shines,
A photo of thee in my pocket that has wilted away,
I seem to grow accustom to loss and dealing with it,

My life has become the coincidence of a bad retention,
Retentions of sight sound and fear of distant apparitions,
I then wonder did she ever really love me did she even care,
Her utterance faded and lost its way over her tongue,

How I loved thee with all my sanity and integrity,
How your love brought me comfort to my abysmal life,
Now my love merely brought more pain than deserved,
Her love now nothing but ardent wilderness with no mist,

Physique of this matron the dexterity shall I seek,
My aridity for thee my ardor for thee is perennial,
Oh great ocean of the sea that barrows fools along,
Conveying forth afore forlorn subsidies of homage,

Drab tears of the sea eternal thirst for thee follow me,
As my apathy follows with such abiding anguish,
Conatus to alleviate my anima in the deep blue”
  By Andrew Guzaldo 08/24/2018 ©