The morning sets a waining dew, a sunlight breaching the black and white, a heart that seemed to stop but once, at a table set for two.

We dance upon a burning room, your eyes a dawn set in blue, a radiant flume plays its pawn on a hill, wanting the morning to never bloom.

Each sip of you leaves my mouth dry, like when first I looked into your eyes, each breath became a thousand sighs, that is when my heart whispered to me, this is a table set for two.

It is these thoughts that fuel my racing mind, leave me breathless, corrupt with each line, the evanescent curve to your face, each auburn glade that wisps, as your empty seat subsides, I miss your voice, I kiss your eyes, it is of you I am bereaved, at a table set for two.

And in one moment I never wanted to say goodbye, as my train was thrown off track, as full conceptions emerge as blurs, your head upon my shoulder, your palm within my grasp, faded all too suddenly, but I conceive that we can last, even as we eat alone. At a table set for two.