The end was quick and bitter Slow and sweet was the time between us, slow and sweet were the nights when my hands did not touch one another in despair but in the love of your body which came between them.

And when I entered you it seemed then that great happiness could be measured with the precision of sharp pain. Quick and bitter.

Slow and sweet were the nights. Now is bitter and grinding as sand - “Lets be sensible” and similar curses.

And as we stray further from love we multiply words, words and sentences so long and orderly. Had we remained together we could have become a silence

i wish i had enough words to tell you how much i liked the last paragraph