This is the first time, even only yesterday
You told me of the seed pods
To remind me of the flowers which had been there
Of the compulsion
From a sense of not quite
Ever coming to the mark
Or of never having
Been in love
This is the sunshine, later on the heatwave
No shadow on this side of the endless edge
Anyhow the shade there, it simply does not suit you
Neither the joy
At the turn of the night
Another wasteful Monday
Of never wanting
To waste another moment
This is the favour to wave away
Least somehow, still searching the fear
Of happiness, or something else to be taken away
And what do I offer
Endless words
Unknowing communication
Of even never before
Having known your love