We perform tricks for the eye,
She and I,
On a wind that sings
The songs which I have followed my whole life.
Her eyes are the colour of sin -
A sun in the black sky.

Though when her absence inspires me,
Let it be said,
That even with her presence, still
The longing is unfed.

We don’t deal with what waits.
It deals with us.

Here lies that longing,
Still as lifeless as lead.