What lifelessness brought by a want that seeps:
Not want for one’s hearing, nor lack of sight,
And ev’ry entrail, my existence keeps,
But my heart leaves with you in ev’ry night.
When morning departs as it severs high,
Creating farewells in its weathered roam,
How heavy my chest, in surrendered sigh;
As my heart follows footsteps leading home.
And home is with you, in your trying wake,
In its willing capture, unchained then chained —
Your mornings must give what your evenings take,
Incessantly warming as briskly pained.
Grace me my mornings: my pulses delight,
But dear, my heart follows you ev’ry night.