Enough I can't get!
Of the merry dragging
Your smiles trail.

Of tears:
Ocean-like drops two lovers in the night
Shed,
Memories to be made tales..

Tells me that I will miss us someday:

Perhaps, it will be me holding another's infant of my own birthing,
remembering two sinful trembling hands
Touching the dark of the other,
Not dreaming of letting go of the pain

Felt way deeper,...