How doth mine heart sing it so,
Of a love, forever to be known,
By a man and a woman bound to reality,
Yet with each other, escape to fantasy.

How doth mine heart sing it so,
Of laughter and tears that both do flow,
With ups and downs that go round and round,
Only with each other, they are found.

Oh, how doth mine heart sing it so,
That a man hath fixed my heart of woe,
And doth mine heart sing it so,
Because this strong and gentle love is ours to know.

Tears are blinding as the page is filled,
with words written, full of meaning,
all in pursuit of wishing you well.
Our paths are distraught,
jutting in different directions,
disrupted by poor choices,
and fitting consequences.

No matter how fitting,
nothing has ever hurt more,
to know you'll be gone kills me.
With the exception of possible visits,
It's possible I'll be nearly 17 by the time
of your reentrance into this crazy,
ever-changing life.

A life where my only correspondence now
with the woman called mother,
is through letters tearstained.
I send them anyway,
knowing they'll be written
without the presence of moisture,
in the corners of my eyes.

It's getting cold out now,
trees are bare,
love is strong,
and my fingers are numb from cold.

My wrist aches from grasping your hand so tightly.

It's simply a curse it seems,
I just can't seem to keep from reaching for you;
I hope you don't mind.
It's not something I can control.

You're just too sweet to let go of.

And if you want the truth,
I ache for you.
I feel your love in my bones,
and it lights up my soul.