A hundred words
simply cannot.

Not nearly enough.

My love,
It is yours alone.

Unlike anything,
every waking thought.

Yours,
and filled with so much.

This connection ,
affectionately beats in time.

Mine in my breast answers
as if called upon.

Never changes.

As I sit and write
or read sad words so perfect

As to fit, or mirror like reflect
every written poem

Unanswered
as if unread, unheard

You may never
Know in fact how lost I've become

How complete
Desperately in love

One alone must
such as I do even after

Must...
Endure