Medicine
Memories of times long past,
like the taste of your gentle lips.
Of honeysuckle and mint,
the wine of which I take the smallest sips.
But the distance between us is vast,
to bridge the gap is no easy feat.
My love for you is enough,
but I would give all to have our hands once meet.
Like horrid torture it is, to know,
that your smile on me I’ll never feel.
Yet, I am forced to swallow a bitter elixir,
and dream of what I’ll never chance to steal.
So, I resign myself,
to the taste of lover’s tears.
And on my lips, that cloying sweetness,
of a young man’s baseless fears.
