WITHHELD
Kyrinn S. Eis
All Rights Reserved Worldswide
My darling, I would call you wife.
Believe me I cannot stand this, our
separation. I hold your life in
such great admiration, and my grief,
it sees no end in sight to our
separate lives.
Were it mine to give you my
body, mind, and property,
on the instant you alone would
inherit all that, living embodiment
of all that is me; that instant!
But it is from your lips, your spear
to my heart, my ears, which that
victory must flow, not mine, dear.
Please, I beg you dear, do not hold
me akin to those who sold you false
in days gone past, and left you
cold.
Would that I should rather die than
see my harm shed you by even one
tear. But you, come to me, dear,
for I have already mine life lain
cold on the floor before that red
door on that Friday in early March.
I would face dangers, even from
father and brother or mother anew
if but only you would come hither
up unto me now, and our eyes
entangle but renew in lust.
Whither art thou?
To thou hadst I been true;
Ever-true e'en unto death I've
sworn since that night swam
upon your shore; aurora's glow
in pink and hues of blue too great
for eyes such as mine to gaze at
You.
Please darling Marissa
