A World Too Small

I cannot find enough minutes in the day, Even measured in the beats of my heart. From no poet can I prise the words to say, When all except feeling, appears then departs. I cannot breathe out those avenues of light, Capture your beauty in some lost chord, Nor deliver clarity in the black on the white In some vain hope of a dignity restored. Each corridor of retreat inches narrow, Distressed I find my air it pinches thin. This control of love plays me as shallow, Yet is its pursuit the inducement of sin? Here then I find there are no exits to this place, And the world is too small to forget your face.