By all accounts: too brief

Is love, but the sting of salted sores
Is not so equivocal.

A safety in all numbers, but one
Is so much more.

Waiting for nothing necessary
Just to see her.

Losing all sense of the world,
I think nothing.

She thinks for me. All is lost
In her eyes.

I see nothing matters between us.
Have failed experiments brought us together?

Let them fail.

By all accounts: too brief.

Is love but the sting of salted sores?
Is naught so equivocal?

A saftey in all numbers but one.
Is so much more

Waiting for nothing necessary?
Just to see her

Losing all sense of the world?
I think nothing

She thinks. For me, all is lost.
In her eyes

I see nothing. Matters between us
Have failed. Experiments brought us together:

Let them fail.