But my heart, it won't.

Now I feel it, now you don't.
Like a grave of forgetfulness,
Leave it behind, I won't:

Can I be transparent,
Or is it all through haze?
My love is apparent,
My heart beats your phrase.

Electric transfer, darkest nights,
Awake, in sleep; I am always haunted,
Farthest reaches of my weak plight,
Wash away your stain, may this be granted.

A burnt root, blackest ash and coal,
With uprooted insides, scattered afar;
Thus, my heavy, sacrilege soul
Is interred in the numbest war.

This isn't pain, that wouldn't be justice,
It wrings and pulls and kicks and wounds.
Your face and body and voice insists
On seeing me through 'til all hope is pruned.

Bare, leafless, adjacent to fact,
At war with what?
It is you I lack.

Now I need you, now you don't.
My mind will forget you
But my heart, it won't.