You spin so gently this tale of sorrow, just like a curtain draped across a window. It seems wise, or at best somehow safer to be on your mind than anywhere else. I weep these tears for your broken heart; Your dreams that cannot be obtained. For like some precious things; If you might have one, it will surely be taken away. So went my lovers one by one- down the path to the cave where only bones dwell. Bones, dust, and the memories with which I reside. I cannot understand my weakness, my give to the tow of your pull. Why it is that I want so badly to know that you desire me above all others? I do not covet you as my own, only that your heart belongs to me.