‘Tis seven years
Since you were taken
From our arms,
Longer still
Since you have lain
Between my breasts,
Slaked of need,
Bedewed with sweat,
And hearts still racing
From a love
So freely given
And returned.

I love you still, and still
My heart does yearn
To hold you close
And whisper love
Upon your ear.

I have gone on
To love another
And build a life
That’s full of joy,
And laughter,
And a million things
We never chanced
To fit into our days.

And yet,
There comes those times
I  gaze about
And ponder unbidden
What if . . .
What if . . .
And my heart spins fantasies
Of time unbroken
And perfect days
By mortal man
Within the realm of time.

I do not understand
What binds me to your love
And keeps me in this prison
Hovering on the brink
‘Twixt life and death.
Yet here I stay,
And grow old,
Remembering days
That never were to come.

— J. E. Clark / 29 June 2016

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