Very sad little poem. The metre and flow is a bit choppy, but I’m still undecided whether that’s all that bad a thing or not. It does seem to resonate a bit with the sort of bewildered, halting thought process of the lone lorn.
Reading stuff like this I always wish there was some way to break this sort of hold, this dependence on another, but I suppose that’s the nature of love, not to be denied or easily fenced.
THX 0477