The death of your alto voice brings tears to mine eyes
waiting desperately for the days when I hear it anew
this time might persistence pay off
might it be seen for the adoration it really is
opposed to the obsessiveness it seems
might it be that once
absence will make that which is absent missed
instead of forgotten
how could you forget about all the things we said
the promised dreams of tomorrow
bright white hot light of love letters sent instantaneously
streaming across the ether of interwhatever
from you to me and back again
we are living in the modern age and time is speeding up
perhaps that means the life cycle of love is too
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