Stoically, silently, stupidly -
little time to start a revolution -
my heart grinds, as if mechanically.

Gears turn – a glorious initiation.
Eyelids flutter like a broken floodgate.
Torrents of tears burst – asphyxiation.

Smothered by heavy emotions too late,
the gasoline heart spills out what it means,
“goodbye, love. Two years, you will have to wait.”

The ferry beckons me, a war machine.
I am flesh, I can emote, I feel time
on heaven’s clock almost striking thirteen,

but all I see is your beauty, sublime;
all I imagine are wedding day chimes.