The days are never long enough with you
But always drag whenever I'm alone.
I don't think I am saying something new,
Indeed, by now it's quite hackneyed and known,
But though I risk becoming just a drone
Repeating what's already been gone through,
I want to say it still. So do not moan,
The repetitions, though there are a slew,
Are only symptoms of my growing love,
Which cannot rest until it is expressed,
And searches for the words it cannot find
Until it just enacts the double of
Its prior self repetitively dressed
In common terms. I pray you, love, be kind.
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