It seems I've performed this play over and over,
    maybe my entire life. I wish the playwright would
    at least listen to my ideas for a happy ending.
    He says it needs conflict and sorrow to entertain.

    I'm not sure where this play came from. It wasn't my
    creation. Maybe DNA carries it like a virus we live
    our lives through the sweat and flail with fever.
    My heart is a bonfire then a campfire then embers.

    3 acts seem paltry for a man and woman to love.
    True Love should last a lifetime I've been told.
    My love is mercury that slips through my fingers
    the more I try to hold it. I'll die disappointed.