Others have given their respects, concern and care; are done and wish
To get on with their own beauties, beliefs, unhampered by my sorrows.
I can see this.
Wrapped so long, warmed well,
We did turn in beautiful full arcs.
Well loved within
Within our circle, insulated with love,
I basked in the potent sweetness of our contentment,
Replete in our time.
The break is cold and lonely.
Alone, Alone, Alone, a weary tolling that I now own
No sense of self, no defense of self.
A fragmentary, futile, flotsam in your wake
I am so scared of being alone with no other, no care, no love.
Know only why should anyone?
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