I watched. I listened. I took your hand when survival reacted.
Not anything as simple as the frail bodies we contort.
Your cry was in the wind, it was a thing from your being.

I tried. Too hard. I thought. Too much. My truth was Euclid, verity's soul it seems fracted.

Enough though it seemed. A while, we dreamed.
Enough.
Now i wake to sleep. My pen gainst my page shan't paint love this deep.