Search

I err on the side of weakness
My voice raging in the wind
My eyes do not cut to the heart of you
Nor my small hands touch your lips
i am made of embers and you of cool, smooth stone
and because of this my love dies once a day
Forgetting the waning and waxing of the moon
Casting doubt on the certainty of the quotidian sun
My love is ere ebbing and retreating because
My love for you dies once every single day
The stength in your hands builds houses
The silence in your chest breaks me down
i shine like the sun ere in your wintry countenance
And for this my love dies once a day
Standing quietly and listening, I can't hear you breathe
You do not live, feel, touch, want- as i do
You are the minah schooled at mimicry;
And because of you my love dies once a day.
Oer the ceaseless days i let it,
Better it than me.

Schultz