You were the first
to send me to Windglum,
the first to growl in my ear,
the first to dampen my heart with kiss.
I loved you only so much as I was able,
which proved daunting and insufficient.
To what do I owe this abysmal fall?
Was it a word or a deed or an absence?
My breath sours as I speak.
I will not call to you in our native tongue
I will not flail or beg or commit
to another futile attempt at reconciliation.
You have gone off now like a comet
and though alone I am still only a harlequin.
(written in 2 minutes, my god I need to find some time to write)