Lost Love

Lust from rememberance.

I dream of a face that remains featureless to my brain.

A quick encounter.

I wish i could see her face one more time.

We meet with letteres, 

a lipstick kiss conceals her words of compassion

I sit for hours composing my affection into entrique syllable patterns that mean nothing.

Does she understand?

The hope of breaking this deathly life.

Will she help relieve me from my shakled tower?

Or will i gaze out til sunset never to see her face again?