The morning's gentle sigh,

held me in my sorrow.

Cloaked in shame,

bathed in longing for love unborrowed.

Words fresh and foul.

Aching to run,

to flock,

to howl.

To proclaim her name in love,

in anguish,

even if our future is hollow.

The morning's gentle sigh held me in my sorrow.

I loved her,

but her,

I could not follow.