Our Love Affair of Despair
What is despair if not for love, what is this air if not her scent.
What crimes we commit for such an affair, what dangers we live to find someone so rare.
I speak a prayer but to god it is not, I look and stare into a mortal of goddess proportions.
If she hears me now or hears me there, if she takes my words I do not care.
I do ask a question and leave it there, do you think this world to have been cruel and unfair?
To have sat upon the chair and dinned at the table, that glorious feast where we taste love.
But alas to have only dined once and in our dreams and not elsewhere, to have touched only in voice and upon our bodies nowhere.
Is this fair or is this love, is love not fair and in being so the only one true love affair we have.
What is her scent filling my lungs if not the air, and what is love if not despair.
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