“Desire, even in its wildest tantrums,  can neither persuade me it is love nor stop me from wishing it were.” ~W.H. Auden, early 20th century

You wore the night like a silk robe.

I looked forward to sunset just to be enveloped in your darkness. To wander through your shadows, guided by the stars in your eyes, gave my life purpose.

I searched for your secrets the way the ocean searches for the shore, no matter how distant I always knew I’d find you.

You, my moon, the beautiful reflection in the black mirror of my eyes. We danced in the darkness together, gravity pushing us together and pulling us apart. And I wondered, what great deed did I do in another life to deserve you for eternity.

In the ebb and flow of life and love, I find you and lose you when day turns to night. Except day has ended, and you did not return. You shed that robe and bared your beauty to another. One who did not love you before, and who will not love you after.

I live and die by this certainty, because love has no beginning, and so love cannot have an end.

The star you chase is no star at all, but rather a comet made of ice. The luminous beauty alluring, but will only lead you into the darkness and abandon you once you have lost your way back to me.

My waters of devotion will morph into ruthless rage, because you will no longer be here to control my tide. You were to my darkness what desire is to love. My calm, my passion, my want, my need…my reason for knowing how deeply I could love.

You were my tempest of emotions for wishing it were true.

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