From water
To ice
To water
And now vaporized
Into gas
That cannot be cubed again
This cycle,
I wish I had the most melodious voice,
I would write and sing you my best of Katie’s choice.
When I am rested at six foot below,
And in vacuous ambience
Of frozen body,
There was a time,
That every time was our time.
When our thoughts were golden
And the worship of a lover’s shrine.
The perfectly drawn of France’s curve,
To light up the oval kingdom,
Host to my adoration;
Your smile.