The long golden garden party afternoon before the news arrives,
The actual appropriate dynamics of everything we compromise
With our delirious longing, all this is just the way of words
When they huddle, affecting happiness in herds.
Let them soften to the fact of the flow of your hair
And love’s favorite lie—“I’ll always be there”.
I always misspell separation when she’s near.
Tonight I’ll get it right, I fear.
Nathan Woods, editor/overlord