Time passes swiftly and the months fall away; every day draws us another day nearer. How could so many miss this happiness I have found? We are a fallen people, and our heaven is both painfully immediate and unattainably distant.
A Little More
A little more this hand must wait to bear
the weight that others shoulder with a sigh,
but silver bands are lighter than the air
and vows, a better salve. So long as I
long only for my perfect counterpart,
I will not play a wastrel, spurning love.
With every beat, you calibrate your heart
to fit me like an old, accustomed glove.
And know that I would empty every breath
to fashion mine a mirror of your own,
reflecting, now and ever after death,
a beauty that was for my eyes, alone.
And so, I wait a little more to see
this promise of a fair eternity.
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