Romance is like a pen.

Rotate in unison.
Missing parts of a whole, bits of you and bits of me.
Pushing through a tidal wave.  Always late at night it feeds.

I'll be thinking about you.

Don't think now, don't think when.
Romance is like a pen.

I spilt my ink,
leaks where leads a picture then.

Un

Undo the lace of touch that burns an eternity of coal glowing warmth.
Unhear the voice in vibration, one frequency that soothes and excites, me.
Unsee a thousand visions of love. Visions of versions of how it could be.

I can not forget.
So,
it becomes an art of
un
remembering.