It began three and a half years ago with quickly jotted words forced to rhyme. Where it went from there not her, nor I, can ever truly define. One thing is clear, the words became more certain over time. The sadness, anger, and love was tightly conveyed, a release to unwind. Though she never expressed an interest in the imagery, I knew she was not blind. She was a mystery, carfully worded, clawing and tip toeing on my mind. So I still wrote for her, with no intention or mention to resign. Separate and apart but a part was still close to mine. Waiting for her revelation and my elation to intertwine. Finally “I loved your words up there”, I have never wrote a more beautiful line.