At first, it was building beautifully, the body of my belief boldly laid bare to your browser. We belonged together, that being what I believed. Though the distance between us was broad, I betted it could be bested. I bore your burdens as if they belonged to my being, rather than your broken past. This was no burden to me, only a beautiful blessing that bespoke the promise of a binding becoming better.

​

I was radiant with this recognition. Reality was revived, hope restored. Recumbent with the respite of your regard, I remained reluctant to return to reality. I would have rather remained in repose than return to the repugnance of my remembrance. I would not relinquish our relationship.

​

And all was alleluia for an abbreviated interval. An April without abiding alone any longer, all of our afternoons turning into auroras, advents of an imagined and anticipated alliance that almost arrived. Aurally affectionate, but abruptly averse to affection around an audience, we avoided the actuality that was around but never accepted.

​

Days turned dark, your devotion denied. Both of us determined the duplicate deadline, but decided to deal with the dismaying determination differently. You did not deign to devote any approval, were derogatory as you dealt a discouraging discourse. It ended in disaster, in departure and despair. Both of us demolished in doubt and disaster, the denouement we could not deflect.