Thankfully
You doubt who you are to me
Strange amalgam of gold agape and quicksilver deceit
An alloy bourn between my cherished heart and perished mind
The artful dodgers of consistency
Are you a window to my past history?
A limerence for the heroic heart I cannot be?
Or merely a mercurial delusion, re-embodied?
A being bonded helplessly
Whose presence drives me mad, and joyously
Though I can’t speak why
You make such sense
To an instinct only insanity presents
Committed to repent
Any familial action
That would bring you back
Within harm’s reach
While I doubt the reality of this connection
