I don't recall the last time that I wanted
To be somewhere except for beside you.
Well, that's a lie - I must admit my vaunted
Memory can tell me how we grew
Into what we are now, and that I knew
Other loves before. Hyperbole
Is hardly necessary for me, though:
I still feel what I feel, see what I see.
I see you far, too far, away from me
And know I want to change that, for I feel
I love you, and that's how it ought to be.
These feelings are what constitutes my real;
In them I live, and therefore I can say
Despite recall, I know no other way.
No comments:
Post a Comment