I Cannot Wait In Quicksand

Dear lover you don't know yourself, yet I'm blinded with awe and we come together, but you let me tumble to other rocks that surface the shore. Dear love you said so yourself, but perhaps it was merely observation. Dear friend who tells tales to tare the tale he tells, because my will tethers easily and I sway so wholly, that another already holds my pen by the end of this poem. I cannot wait in quicksand, my legs wont wade merrily.