#874954 added February 25, 2016 at 5:39pm Restrictions: None
To not be loved
To not be loved
In absentia I call out.
What is left when all has fled
—flames of youthful mourning
—fire of our building rage
—embers of elder evenings.
And what has been lost.
I call out,
a fading remnant of my gift to you,
echo that does not come back.
To love, yet to not be loved.
To give what must be given freely
without expectation,
without hope.
To love what must be loved.
To love who must be loved.
No word.
No echo in return.
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