My Love.

I wait, watch and ponder. Hours pass and I find myself asking, if you wander? Words of extension don’t reach extension; walls of construct are pillars of our domestication.

Do we find each other in fields anew, was it always you? … my dear, are you so clear? We grab tightly with pseudo noose protection, for wants and desires of a future never so near.

Failure ever spent; I don’t want you to be my next regret. Words of concerned misplacement guide your inner displacement. For you are the end, the beginning, my today, tell me love will it be okay?

Gone boy, gone girl, our bellies are full. Concessions of past regression give a kind dinner of hearts the fanciful cull. We poke at livers, skin and fat; if you eat quickly it will bear fruit from prodding all of my that (and then).

You taste and I swallow, we chew gristle and paste. I loved you more than first mistake.