beloved dear,

please donve

made in our tiny,

little hearts.

darling, my love,

my hand reaches for yours,

but there is nothing between

our fingertips other than

miles and the chains

that bind me to the coldness

of my soul. please

dons in

her hand,

and your heart,

and everywhere in between

the trees of night and

the leaves of the dying.

my song is for you,

but she lives in

the melody.

my ring is for you,

but she lives in the stone.

forgive me of my past,

for there is nothing

that i would want more than

to just give myself to you,

not to her,

even though she holds

more of my heart

then you do.