Written in anticipation

I have very little time left and this time that I have, I devote soley to you. You in your vain attempts to make me laugh over slips of tongues that were meant but not meant to be spoken. Years from now I will still wonder why  I was so susceptible to evil, why I did not then shut you down and put you in the right as the case often was.

I like the feel of me laying against you and I imagine how different this feels from the last time that I can now not remember. I wonder if it is because of your affections that you show so eloquently for others but somehow I interpret to be bare and scandalously vexacious, as is my nature.

I wanted to kiss you all wined up and feeling forlorn for anothers lips but thought it unfair because perhaps you would think it meant more than this. I verily promised sober sense for all our meetings after that, be it in alleways or homes or even peering down on the thousand lights from the ethereal gnomes that hide in the lifted lanterns of the neighborhoods.

One thought to spare for you, whom when I am alone I think of fondly and with due regard and then remember too well that I know nothing of you that would make that regard due. I have no intentions of falling, never, not that. I fear it so because it worsens my already bruised senses. It makes me think things that are not there and turns memories of villany and infamy into those of heroism and misunderstandings.

You, you exude things that I want to have but I fear you will not let yourself have to want. Perhaps I too should be doing the ousting out of the chambers of my heart. My time is ill spent wrapped up in the thoughts that comprise my mind on the feelings so proclaimed to be in yours. And there it is, already done. Whether a minute or a second spent, I see it clearly now. I have already fallen and I try and collect the broken pieces of my heart before it has yet broken.