Everyday I wake up, to the gods I ask,
“Will the time come when I fin’lly forgechu?”
So I go on my day and put on a mask,
Hope that in my busy-ness I fin’lly forgechu.
Later in bed alone, I think of your embrace,
Hug my pillow, close my eyes, and recall your face.
I descend under the sheets and prepare for the cold.
True love can’t be forgotten, I have been told.
Banner photo by Andrea Piacquadio from Pexels.
Xeno Hemlock 