i fool myself sometimes, i think.
as though the past is gone,
and we have made it through
our patch of rough —
but days i see the longing in you –
i, then, realize
that everything we have is
not enough

i fool myself sometimes, i think.
as though the past is gone,
and we have made it through
our patch of rough —
but days i see the longing in you –
i, then, realize
that everything we have is
not enough