I know that you and me are done,
But I think and I think, and I cannot move on.

I try to fit with the metre, to churn out the pattern
Of a beating heart or a dulling thud,
But it’s too slow, it’s too ******* empty
-*******, sweet haunter, I’m boiling in blood,
I am lost, and weeping, and beyond and above,
And always without you, my dear ******* love.