Oh friend, lover, path trotter. You knew before I that all this you prefix with an e and an x. Oh friend, what frost has come over your voice? What crude has vexed your tone? What winds have stolen your thumping heart? Oh lover, you only lust and even then only if you must. Oh path trotter, you care so much less about all that is this mess around. I don't recognise all the souls that occupy your eyes.
But I remember it all, the warmth of your voice, the soft tones and your great thumping heart. I remember the cries, highs and longing. I remember you when you cared. Indeed, I preferred you angry.
Oh friend, I wrote you a hundred word letter five times over that I could not send because I release you.
I release you to the garden you covet. I release you proud to have coveted you until you told me it could no be so. I release you with no charge or bond. You are my defendant no more. You are free to reign all the hearts that you please, but not mine.