My love for him was so great, like a steak waiting for a plate.
My heart opened while the dusk enveloped us.
The dark night writes my dreams now he’s away
I recall now he’s what Alexander McCall Smith calls,”late”
His mind of humour and wit
Were a wonder and sign of affection to me,
Now his writing is all I see,
I guess that’s about it for now.See you later, pet.
Maybe
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How my heart sings 