Step Aside Shakespeare

IX

Oh, the torments of hell yond I must see!

Days turneth to weeks, all gone in a waste.

Every second so precious it's hardly

equal to the time my heart feels erased.

The truck rumbles and she's in mine own arms

again. We pincheth and squeezeth as hard

as we can, checking we did face nay harm,

while he's at a distance in disregard.

How I wisheth I couldst freeze us in hand!

But time with her dances a strange ballet.

I blinketh. She's crying, happy but sad,

and I quickly licketh the salt away.

I am all yours, I choketh through a grin,

but thou art only half mineth herein.