Goblet

Here it is, what remains. My vessel is a work of destiny, suspended in the notes floating in the rise and fall of universes. Forever in a fortnight, two weeks in eternity. Shall I ever see her again, and touch her hand as I thought I would for a lifetime? Will she remember the taste of our first kiss, full of the blood of life and the flutter of birds in the afternoon? There are robins in my backyard, and in hers. Can we ever come to believe that they are one and the same, that we are together across the veil, joined outside of flesh and matrimony? If only I could have made her myself, the ivory statue that was my perfect love. She shows me the truth through her eyes, and I know.