To my dearest dumbass:
And as I reach up to touch,
I cannot help but
Want this so very much—
But it’s all for naught,
I already see her, Death—
Grasping your shoulder
Such was the fate of Macbeth,
Such is now your fate.
I love you so, so very—
And I am so, so
I am so, so sorry.
Only a mirage,
Only an illusion,
Only a dream,
A false future, one
That we will never have.