I am but a borrower
Lost in the transformation
Not yet ready to move on
Adrift in temporal shift
Disconnected from the heart
Where should I start?
. . . 
The beginning, middle
Or fateful end.
. . . 
…
His voice.. held the wind
That November night
Breathless sighs, and . . .
Those eyes.. Yea. . They
Caught me by susprise.
Who were you?
Naive was I.
Under that November sky.
…
Blinded.
By an idea
And his name…
…
Fragile on my lips
That kiss
Dancing in my memories
Questions linger
Was I ever his?
…
Timid are my thoughts.
Like the ink on my page.
splattered amongst the chaos. 
Voices heard across the stage.
Where only he’s tethered.
Bound by a decision.
But fear..
Calls.
Falls.
Crawls
On this
Sweet
November road.
. . .