A Moment's Notice

She is the architect of all that I know of love.

She drew the plans.

She laid the foundation.

She handled every brick.

She raised the scaffolds that formed

the very construct of my heart.

But the truth is, I can never sign my name

in the cement before these doors.

This building is hers alone,

on the border between promise and despair.

Silently waiting, susceptible

to a swift and violent destruction

at a moment's notice.

It seems that the truest and most enduring love

is reserved only for the dead.

So assign her the deed to this structure

that love has abandoned

and etch her name indelibly onto my epitaph.

Tell the world that loving her

was the greatest chapter I had ever written.

You can still hear some of its words

whispered in the wind that blows through

this decaying skeleton.

Chaotic and passionate.

Tumultuous and euphoric.

Eerily still and perfectly unending.