"To watch your slow death in another

Is a death unto itself."

She thought-

Made sense to her

Were they not dying

Were they not wreaths

Those merry wordy flowers

Exemplifying

She tried pretending all was well

All was in that head of hers

(Producing bleakness on demand)

Maybe it was like he said

All in her head

The lot of it

But her gut anguishes

(Lover

Love

It evolves we

Into were)

Into matter other than intended

Absolves and revolts

Against nature

(And you and I are but playthings

Of roaring trading winds)

Antimatter

Against thunderbolts

Her mind languishes untold

"I would break for you- break like a tree

Over and over

If you asked me to."

Thus she told the page

And him

"Oh but that I could break a thousand-fold

For you."