CALL ME BROKEN

Oh, speak not of my heart untrue,
Though absence seeks to temper my desire,
As readily I could bid myself adieu
As part from the soul within your fire.
In your bosom lies my dwelling of love:
If I’ve strayed, like threads unraveled, I return,
To the moment, not with time exchanged above,
Yet with my essence, a cleansing urn.
Never think, though frailties course my veins,
That they could mar this sacred trust we share,
To forsake, for naught, your myriad gains,
For you, my rose, my universe is bare.
Within its vast expanse, hear my call,
For nothing exists, save you, my all.

:: 01.26.2024 ::