Pray tell lil dove,
to lose b’fore having,
to miss the taste of your love as I would
enjoy sweet nectar as it cascades down my chin.
pain arcs along the heart as a streak of
lightning races across the sky
to ache in the soul most grievously.
terror of impending loss languishes
within every dark niche when walking
deserted city streets.
my heart, gone before the spirit can become
friends and enjoy passion as the artist within
grew and blossomed.