And there I am, like a devil before your eyes, bouncing from lash to lash to make my way down the race of your skin and glide my fingers across your receding lips, yearning for no memory fore memory is not needed to find the trace of your beauty, like my ink through this page, present through all of time;
And your breath that does bob and shivurr when I say I love you still, that moves my hands to your colds hands as they lock into mine and say never leave, I say if ever wisdom was gained in me it was to hold, though it hurt, and never to forsake, even when all doors close and you slip away;
And to remember without fear, the loneliness we speak, fore tomorrow will break two who have grown like a tree into separate boughs, bouncing in early spring, dancing in late summer, and dying with autumn winds, the shriveled tree, my love, uprooted by the breeze, in winter’s heart no spring, but you with me once, like a footprint on a stone.
in parentheses 
enter the discussion: