I shall pass on in the stirring of morning
new colours still vacant on covered-up canvas
but a promise of pastel aglow at the edges.

I shall let go in the thawing of darkness
relinquishing thus to an unyielding keeper
the forcing, enforcing, of a hated beginning.

Yes: if not on my terms, then on my conditions
shall we be brought together to sever
this love, from these lovers;
neither immortal.

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