If there is room within you
Only for one other heart,
Then let it be mine.
Or I will be dungeoned for life
Should it not be so.
My body will become
My own true sarcophagus.
As stone, as coldness steals me,
And over whelms my state.
My brittle love fractures,
As it is soon to be as shattered glass,
And me, a mere affected statue of self.
Being so viley cast down to earth,
Lyimg now in more fragmented shards
Than this compared to broken mirror or pane.
Rather, I would blend so our hearts if chance were given,
And love you such in all your ways.
So as to meld our worlds into one swift life.
Then afterwards hold you close and safe,
Throughout the comfort of eternity.
c 2029 Christopher Thompson
all rights reserved
heart to heart.