an artist gazing on his Mona Lisa,
an engineer fascinated by the workings of my mind,
a musician who heard the sweetest song in my words.
Like the reader of a book he couldn't put down,
a pirate who had found the x that marked the spot.
Like the sun whose job it was to warm my earth,
the magnetic south to my magnetic north.
Without your love I feel like:
clumps of scattered mud,
a painting hung in an empty room,
a scrapyard full of rusty cogs,
tumbling words falling from a cliff,
a book whose pages have been torn out,
a hole in the sand where the treasure once lay,
the dark side of the cold moon,
just a pole, alone, all at sea.
I didn't just lose the man I loved,
I lost the man who loved me.
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