Even when your bile drowns my dreams and desires,
or when farewells are scribbled in empty closet drawers,
when fires form petals, and trees wilt without winds,
when the ground beneath your feet cries for the sky,
when the gentle caress of a threat flows from your fingers,
And your eyes sing broken sonnets to an empty mind,
When the daggers you bury take the shape of your words,
remember always, that I only wish that you were mine.