ConSpirito's Vampire Journal

ConSpirito's Journal

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A Summer Past
22:25 May 19 2009
Times Read: 576

What is there twixt yourself and me?

Love? Hope? Three hundred miles?

There's the horizon and naught else to see:

We frown since we cannot see our smiles.

I've spent two months short of a year,

Waiting to sweep you off of your feet.

Four with your voice within my ear,

Whispering words, loving and sweet.

We met and danced at the last ball

Then weeks we laughed and cried and talked

As summer slowly waned to fall

You lay at home whilst streets I walked.

You lay, my head in hand, in bed

Whilst I held yours in autumn night

We'd speak until our phones went dead

Or till the sun gave morning light.

But. The word that turns the situation faux

Appears so frequently within my mind

But this, but that, but, I don't know;

And soon, 'tis all that I can find.

Three months have gone since we spoke last

Of summer plans and separate lives

Our love has fled us much too fast

And now it shrivels, soon to die.

For months you'd been my one addiction

But our paths may never cross again

Yet I will not dismiss my hopes as fiction

Aurevoir, my love, my dear, my friend.

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