I marvel at the reconsideration
Of past iterations forgone due to lack of
substantiation.
At the you inside of every bridled motion of my self
reminiscent of itself.
Let me worry, let me toil, simply so that I can know
In you
The moment of no worry, of no toil.
Let me worship every hour that we can spoil
Forgotten
Or rather, unnoticed.
Let me pray at the feet of this moment
So that it may be said that I
Appreciated every little piece of it
And that I may speak these words
Only so that you may hear them once,
And again, and yet some more.