6 lines
888 B
Plaintext
6 lines
888 B
Plaintext
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In the first, I was infatuated with a pixie-nymph from far away. She was reciprocal, but our time together was intoxicating. However, she'd been hurt: flesh ripped from bone and her very life threatened. She'd never intended to stay forever, and now her injuries had cut her time short. We had a day together, in which we beheld a festive church, a garden and walked a while.
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When she told me she was not long for this place I implored her to stay. But she, resolute, refused, and I took it poorly. Thinking about myself, I soured our last hours together: selfishly, I wanted her, she should be mine, stay and be my joy, but it wasn't to be.
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Now she is left, and I have but my memories of our time together. I wish I'd not tilted at her windmill, not tried in vain to turn the tide of our fate. If I'd only respected her time and mine, those memories of mine would be sweet, not brine.
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