Looking at once,
both at and straight through you.
As if you are transparent glass
with a faint, yet visible etching.
My present belong entirely to you,
nothing held back, no reservations
Yet the future holds no hope of you
For just as the sun retreats for winter
so you must.
This moment in itself is full
It wants for nothing
It is a period no more temporary
than life on earth itself
A joy no less overtaking
event with the eminent approach of pain
Lost in you while letting go still
basking entirely in the warmth of you,
yet preparing myself for the cold void to come.