your eyes are a graveyard of broken dreams, and rusted hearts
how dreadful it is to love and not be loved in return. torturous is the only thought leaking from my breath, a long drawn out uttering, slippery and rough, fumbling its way from my throat. a heart made into a wishless chain, needy, slowly sticking to my body, ice and magic, the way lips once felt. i try to sink this lightness, but nature has cursed me. the wind tremulously churning through my hair...
Set me as a seal upon thine heart, as a seal upon thine arm: for love is strong as death; jealousy is cruel as the grave: the coals thereof are coals of fire, which hath a most vehement flame. ~Song of Solomon 8:6