The heat turns cold
Sweat dries
Tears dry
Passion becomes reluctant complacency
Becomes apathy
Becomes fear of you loosening your grip on my wrist.

And we dissolve into ***
Because there isn't anything left to say
When moaning is the only way to communicate.

This was never love.
But we gave it a chance.
But you hid the sunlight
And I drowned it.
So here we stand in this muddy swamp
In the eye of the final storm.

The wind picks up.
The moss shifts.
The willows sway.

And here we sink.