it was not your leaving

that stopped my heart

on that cool summer evening
when the horizon still seemed so softly full

of dreams for a beggar knocking at the door of love
so much of who we were becoming extractive sieving 

till the alchemy of your kiss
turned all other tastes bitter 

no spell can be cast
upon one who has had heart

poured into broken vessel
a furnace fed the ice of tears 

and this is the riddle of wanting
in blindness that is so bright

to steal ever beat of my heart to come
dull echoing only for you

while i know your heart is his
he took it from me

and he did not even want it.