Wednesday, October 22, 2003

To see you when I wake up, is a gift I didn't think could be real
To know that you feel the same, as I do, is a Three-fold utopian dream
You do something to me
That I can't explain
So would I be out of line, If I said
I miss you.
I see your picture, I smell your skin on, the empty pillow next to mine
You have only been gone ten days, but already I am wasting away
I know I'll see you again
Whether far or soon
But I need you to know, that I care
And I miss you

-- that's just for you sweetie, like you didn't already know

VI
When some discuss if near the other graves
be room enough for this, and when a day
Suits best for carrying the corpse away,
With care about the banners, scarves and staves
And still the man hears all, and only craves
He may not shame such tender love and stay.

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