Only a memory

I am only a memory for your future self to hold
dear I only pray
bitter I often fear
for time will not sway from its mortal intent.

Your little sweet hands in mine.
Your eyes looking, adoringly into me
while we tumble over and over again into what seems to be an infinite chasm of connection.
But you know not what I’ve yet to explain…

That I am only a memory for your future self to hold
dear I only pray
bitter I often fear
for time will not sway from its mortal intent.

You take my finger in the warmth of your tender palm
and with it my heart
pouring off my sleeve, leaving only rivers of submission
to what must be the depth of my fragility
the moment of my surrender to vulnerability.
You break me, into the best of pieces.
Such depressing sadness to reflect…

That I am only a memory for your future self to hold
dear I only pray
bitter I often fear
for time will not sway from its mortal intent.

My child you are in love with me.
It’s clear in those deep stares, your laughter and sweet hugs.
God what have I done to deserve this?
Nothing much I’m certain.
Nothing more than all that I must do to deserve it, such that one day, when the world labours you with the pointed blade of death’s knowledge
the glory of our relationship will sustain you, then when you understand…

That I was only meant to be a memory for your future self to hold
dear I only prayed
bitter I often feared.
For time was never meant to sway from its mortal intent.